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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28444374">T.K.O.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aybeexinfinity/pseuds/aybeexinfinity'>aybeexinfinity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut, help i fell in love with another old man in a video game, i would let viktor vector do very bad things to me, started as a fantasy now we here, this is a perfect example of my inability to write smut without there also being feelings involved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:42:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28444374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aybeexinfinity/pseuds/aybeexinfinity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What started as a ride home ends up as something else entirely thanks to a medical emergency, lapse in judgement, and deep-seated feelings.</p><p> </p><p>*Spoiler Warning for main quest events regarding Jackie and the relic. If you haven't finished the Konpeki Plaza mission, I suggest reading after to avoid spoilers.*</p><p>This will probably only be 2 chapters long but I'm leaving the door open in case I get more feels once I progress through/finish the game.</p><p>EDIT 04/15/21: I'm gonna be adding a third and final chapter to this eventually now that I've finished the game!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female V &amp; Viktor Vector, Female V/Viktor Vector, V &amp; Viktor Vector, V/Viktor Vector</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>213</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sucker Punch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/relinquish_one_bullet/gifts">relinquish_one_bullet</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The aggressive lighting of <em>El Coyote Cojo</em> made V want to shield her eyes. At least, that’s what it felt like. In reality, it was the sensation of tears threatening to spill forth that made her want to slam her eyes shut. The lights just seemed to aggravate it. Mama Welles was standing in front of the table that had been set up for Jackie’s <em>ofrenda</em>. She was talking, saying her piece, mourning the loss of her son with fond memories and Valentino tradition; but V couldn’t concentrate long enough to hear more than a word or two. Between that and the short lag of Mama’s Spanish/the translator in her cyberdeck, it was making her head spin trying to keep up. Instead, she focused on the picture of Jackie. It was a great one of him—he wasn’t making a silly face or mean muggin’, just regular ol’ Jack. His muscles always made him look tough enough, but seeing his genuine smile immortalized was a promising reminder of his unyielding kindness towards the ones he loved.</p><p>When Vik got up from beside her, it shook her from the trance she seemed to be in. He had ditched the usual ripperdoc getup for a much more formal blazer, dress pants, and white button-up shirt. He had brought with him a pair of boxing gloves—well used, by the looks of them—that he held onto as he turned to face the crowd of people gathered to pay their respects. There was so much death and violence in Night City and dozens died every day. She knew for a <em>fact</em> that not just anyone got a send off like this.</p><p>“Among the membership of the Night City Devils boxing club, we had this saying. Make your best friends among the fighters who knock you out cold. And it’s true. Jackie’s arm was a cannon. No one’s ever hit me as hard; heh, I can still almost feel it.” Viktor paused, turned to face the table, and placed one of the gloves atop it while studying the other contents. After a few moments of silent introspection, he kissed the top of the other glove and raised it to the sky before laying it beside the other. “Twelve rounds, buddy.”</p><p>He turned at that and walked back towards V, settling in beside her and stealing a look at her from the corner of his eye as the stranger on the bench beside him arose. It was a Valentino gang member, there on behalf of Campo Orta to convey his condolences. His words were lost on her as she chewed at her lip, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Mama Welles would want her to say something. V herself wanted to say something. But what could she possible say that wasn’t <em>I’m sorry</em>? She should have been faster, thought quicker, worked harder to make sure they both made it out of there alive. Vik, Misty, even Mama telling her otherwise did nothing to quench the guilt.</p><p>“Would anyone else like to speak?” Mama Welles said to the group, her eyes lingering on V just a moment longer than the rest. She could feel the eyes burning on her, but it wasn’t until Vik reached out and tapped the back of her hand with his knuckle—a silent gesture of support—that she was able to will herself to her feet. Taking hesitant steps in front of the table, she felt the sinking sensation in her stomach multiply.</p><p>“I uh…I often think back to the first time me and Jack met.” She began, looking at his picture and resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. “It was a mess of a first job, but we made it through. Wasn’t long after that he and Mama Welles welcomed me into their home, into their family. Jackie Welles. Best friend you could ask for. Loyal to a fault. Once he set his mind on something, he was ready to die to achieve it. He once told me ‘<em>the one thing we can’t do is be afraid of others.</em>’ For his loved ones, he’d sacrifice his life, without hesitation. He was my best friend, and he deserved so much better. Rest easy, Jackie.”</p><p>She took the book of his that she and Misty had found in his garage and lay it down amongst the other items. It was selfish of her, but V came very close to keeping the book for herself. Hell, if Misty hadn’t been there with her she very well might have taken a whole whack of his belongings to remember him by. But it wasn’t her right. She wasn’t his mother, his sister, his girlfriend, she wasn’t even a Valentino.</p><p>She was just the trouble who got him killed.</p><p>“I would like to say a toast.” Mama Welles said, motioning towards a small table covered with shot glasses. V took one for herself and one for Vik, handing one his way as he rose with the others. “Here’s to my son.”</p><p>In unison they drank, a joint send-off to a far better person than many in the room. She felt a sudden pinch of pain in the depths of her head, making her vision go fuzzy for the briefest of moments. She slammed her eyes shut and took measured breaths until she was able to punch it down. After a deep breath V studied the small glass in her hand, wishing the burning sensation in her throat could erode the guilt and churning feelings running wild in her gut. Instead, it just left her cold. The sensation was interrupted by the presence of a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“Let’s go siddown.” Vik said from her side, nodding towards the empty bar. She nodded, following after him just a half-step out of pace. Whether or not he had made a conscious choice in their bar stools, she couldn’t know, but it helped to be at the opposite end of where she and Jackie used to sit after jobs.</p><p>“I’m going to miss him. I already do.” She said in a quiet voice, chewing her lip open once more and cursing at the pain.</p><p>“Me too, V. Me too.” Vik replied, matching her tone. Without needing to ask, Pepe had filled two shot glasses for them. Sliding them across, he poured one for himself as Vik held his up in a toast. “Here’s to Jackie—gone off to greener pastures.”</p><p>“To Jackie Welles.” V raised her glass, a distant part of her brain making note to get his drink named after him down at Afterlife.</p><p>“A proud son of Heywood.” The three of them drank in unison, the glasses clinking down on the wooden bar top milliseconds apart. The music was playing just loud enough to spare the patrons from their silence, but in that moment V wanted nothing more than to be drowned in something other than her feelings. At least music couldn’t give you alcohol poisoning. It was a hell of a lot cheaper to fix a broken ear drum, and in the depths of her apartment there was always someone playing music loud enough to feel through the floors.</p><p>The thought of driving home alone didn’t sit well with her, though. Her mind was too frazzled—whether from the Relic or just the whole dying and coming back to life thing, she didn’t know. V had been on plenty of benders before in far less forgiving places in Night City, but the last thing she needed was to drive all night into the Badlands and decide on a whim to never come back. Drinks aside, she didn’t trust herself behind the wheel—or maybe she just really, really didn’t want to be alone after a funeral. V cast a look up at Pepe, watching as he carried a tray of drinks over towards the stairs to bring up to Padre Ibarra. No one else was close enough to hear her, let alone judge her.</p><p>“Hey Vik?” V spun the empty shot glass around a few times as he looked over at her, ready for her question. “Do you think…Could you take me home?”</p><p>“Of course.” He nodded once, laying his hand on her shoulder and immediately getting to his feet. Whether he would be honest and say if he had actually wanted to stay, she didn’t know, but regardless she was grateful for the out. Getting up from the bar, she crossed both arms over her chest and took comfort in the way his hand sat at the small of her back. “C’mon, I’m parked out back.”</p><p>He gently steered her to the storage area, bidding farewell to Mama Welles for the both of them, and held open the door for to go through. There were a few of the patrons smoking up in the small room, but none paid them any mind as they headed out into the alleyway. Vik’s car, an absolute stunner that looked like it came straight out of 2044 unaltered, was a deep blue Villefort Alvarado V4f 570 Delegate. Its signature double wheels at the front and throwback style perfectly fit the ripperdoc. Instead of some of the Kitschy people who drove similar models, he had spared the interior from fuzzy dice and velvet seat covers in neon colours. Vik held the door open for her on the passenger side and waited until she was inside to close it after her.</p><p>Soon enough he was in the driver’s seat to her left, bringing the car to life with a powerful hum. The car smelled just like Vik’s usual cologne and cigarettes, though this time lacking the undertones of antiseptic and soldering usually present in his clinic. She couldn’t pinpoint why the smell brought her such comfort, but she wasn’t going to question a good thing, least of all in her current state. It wasn’t a terribly long drive to her building, but she was grateful that he didn’t try to fill the void with small talk. As V looked out the window, she wiped at the tears that finally broke through her defenses. If there was anyone left she could let see her this way, it was the ripperdoc beside her. Hell, he’d already seen her dead, a pretty hard to beat state, so she was already one step above rock bottom. For now.</p><p>When they got to Megabuilding 10, V directed him to the parking garage so they could bypass the crowds. He parked in her spot to avoid any surcharges from the Administration, and turned the car off. Vik waited patiently, without the slightest indication of annoyance, until she was ready to get out of the car herself. He followed, walking at her side as they crossed the garage to the elevator. V let the console scan her so they could access the eighth floor, leaning against the metal grate while the four displays blared Channel N54 News. As they slowly ascended through the too-many-levels of the building, V felt the return of the pain in her head. It was stronger this time, spreading from her head down her neck, but she was still able to get it relatively under control.</p><p>“You alright, V?” The ripperdoc asked, his voice closer than he had been moments before. She nodded blindly, clenching her teeth and heaving out a few deep breaths before shaking it off. It didn’t look like he believed her, but he decided not to push the topic. His compromise, though, was to stay close at her side.</p><p>When she’d first gotten her own apartment and moved out of Mama Welles’ place, she feared it was a big mistake to take the first apartment off the elevator. Easy access for her meant easy access for everyone else too, right? The noise would come in, the drunks would inevitably end up on her doorstep, and so on. But she had to give it to Megabuilding; they had worked wonders on soundproofing the doors. And thanks to the very nature of Night City, there was always someone awake and alert hanging around in the hallways to at least dissuade would-be miscreants from bothering her.</p><p>Now more than anything, she was grateful to have the refuge. The door opened at her approach, the air freshener pod’s fabricated forest scent mingling with the metallic scent of modified weapons in her stash room. She probably should have tidied up, or at least she would have if she knew someone would have been coming back with her, but it wasn’t half as bad as it had been a few weeks back. The clutter around her place wasn’t too far beyond what Vik had on his desks at the clinic, she was just sporting a few more food products and a lot less trophies. The Buck-a-Slice box and grab bag from Tom’s Diner were still on the table in her living area from the night before, along with the empty bottle and can. Taking off her weapons, she slid them onto the ground and walked over to the window for a breather.</p><p>“Thanks for bringing me here, Vik.” She said in a distant tone. Night City, to no one’s surprise, looked more alive when the sun went down. Even if that life was artificial, synthetic, and fabricated, it was so much louder than the organic daytime version. The adverts and branding screamed at her from across the cityscape: Brooklyn Barista for your at-home booze needs, Mac N’ Cheezus for the late-night munchies, even Fuyutsuki to remind you that despite being the standard for shard sharing, they were still very much a luxury and demanded recognition (in the form of stocks and investors).</p><p>“Anytime.” He promised as he took hesitant steps deeper into her apartment. She waved a hand in front of the glass to close the shutters, sealing her off from the too-much-ness of the outside world and sealing her into the very misplaced but enduring sense of safety. As she kicked off her shoes, though, she was sent stumbling back into the shuttered window. She belted out a string of curses as she clutched at her thumping head. “V? V what’s going on?”</p><p>“D-don’t k-know.” She stammered through gritted teeth, hands shaking as the pain shot furiously down her spine and encapsulated her heart. Her breathing was severe and shallow, like all the oxygen in the world wasn’t enough to let her breath. The pain was ricocheting throughout her now, tiny fires searing through her nervous system. V was one second away from hitting the ground when the ripperdoc caught her, effortlessly lifting her over to the couch and laying her down so she couldn’t hurt herself. “My h-heart, it’s—everything is on f-fire.”</p><p>“Have you still got those omega blockers I gave you?” He asked, peeling off his black blazer and tossing it behind him as he pressed two fingers to her neck. She was able to point to her bed, eyes fluttering in and out of white-filled blindness as she watched him go after the meds. He rifled through the things cluttering her shelves as she writhed on the couch, the heavenly sound of pills jingling in a plastic bottle promising her a sliver of hope for reprieve. Kneeling down on the ground in front of her, Vik pried open the bottle and fished out a single pill, prying her mouth open and dropping it in. She made sure to swallow it whole, not sure what would happen if the capsule broke, and kept her eyes shut as she waited for the meds to do their work. She still had no idea where the ripperdoc found drugs like these, but she was grateful beyond measure.</p><p>While the pill dissolved in her stomach Vik left her side to go through the stuff littered through her bathroom and on her desk. He found what he was looking for: a lone MaxDoc to help stabilize her. He administered it easily, watching her carefully as the tremors were slowly corrected. Whether it was seconds or minutes that passed, she couldn’t tell, but before long she was finally settling back to normal. Whatever that was for her these days, anyways. When the pain finally ebbed, she realized Vik was leaning over her with his fingers on her neck again, monitoring her heartrate, and a frown knitted in his brow that she hadn’t seen since he told her about the Relic in her head.</p><p>“That happen often?” He asked once she had the chance to catch her breath. She shook her head, not wanting to risk the moment of peace by sitting up. He reached for the big pillow on the couch and helped slide it under her head. “Maybe these oughta be taken on a schedule, not as-needed.”</p><p>“Sorry. Didn’t mean to put you on the clock.” She managed, taking a deep breath in and letting it slowly fizzle from her lungs. He pulled his hand back, letting out a quiet sigh and rubbing his forehead.</p><p>“Just glad I was here when it happened, V. The world ain’t done with you yet.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave her a once over before moving to the edge of the couch beside her legs. He opened his mouth to speak but was distracted by something. She watched as he slid a finger into her front pocket, rubbing the material between his thumb. “Are these…”</p><p>“The pants you stitched onto me after I pulled a Lazaraus?” She challenged, the sweat tingling on her neck from the commotion her body had just endured. He looked almost shocked at her words, like he hadn’t anticipated to have been caught.</p><p>She knew the feeling of the clothes she had been wearing for the Arasaka job: slick suits from Deshawn that were too soft on her skin for her tax bracket. It was the same thing she wore when Takemura dragged her half-flatlined body out of the Night City junkyard. But when she woke up at Vik’s clinic, woke up proper, the clothes were nowhere to be found. Instead, she had an oversized t-shirt and pants that fit a little too perfectly on her to be borrowed. But the fabric, it was old school. Not the mass-produced synthweave found in just about everything else: this came from someone who specifically picked out and tailored their clothes. Vik wasn’t much one for opulence, but between his boxing winnings and the profit from his clinic, he could afford certain luxuries. Her assumption had been confirmed later on when she saw the label on the pants, linking them to the Heywood tailor who still made custom orders for people like Vik. The perfect fit, though? That was all the ripperdoc. All so she didn’t have to walk around in the clothes she died in.</p><p>“I’m pretty shit at a lot of things but I can tell the difference between one of your stitches and the kind the bots make in NUSA.” She settled back on the couch, reaching one arm up to rest on her forehead as she felt the calm of her baseline taking control once more. Whatever he may have felt about her decision to insist on not only keeping but continuing to wear his old clothes, he kept it to himself.</p><p>“I’m gonna look you over, make sure everything’s as it should be.” He reached into his pocket and took out his key ring, the metal clanging together as he separated out a pen light. V waved her hand towards the radio on the table behind him to spare them from the silence, trying to match the station to what he’d been playing in the car.</p><p>Turning on the pen light, he leaned over her and shone the beam into and away from her eyes a few times to make sure the pupils responded right. Lacking any of his usual equipment meant he had to rely entirely on whatever medical training or experience he’d learned along the way. He brought his ear to her mouth and told her to breathe deep, listening for any distortion in her breathing.</p><p>“Had any implants from other rippers?” He asked as he pressed two fingers into her gut. He palpated around, maybe feeling in case anything ruptured. V kept her eyes averted to the ceiling, looking just beyond the ripperdoc, while trying to figure where to put her hands. She was scared to acknowledge the part of her that liked having his hands on her.</p><p>“Wouldn’t let anyone else touch me, Vik.” She immediately felt a blush bloom on her cheeks at her poor choice of words, but he didn’t take any jabs at her. Between the <em>ofrenda</em> and the relic, she was bruised enough. “Nothing on me but the cyberdeck, Kiroshi, and the smartlink from Okada.”</p><p>“Hmm.” He processed what she said without further response, focusing on making sure her organs weren’t going to cut out on her. “Can’t speak to your cybernetics without a proper scan, but from what I can tell nothing’s damaged. You still feel any pain?”</p><p>“My head’s still ringing a bit, but other than that…” She paused, taking a moment to evaluate exactly what she was feeling. Pointing to the base of her sternum, she winced as she moved. “Here. Feels kinda like…You ever been hit with a power round through ballistic weave?”</p><p>He cracked a smile at that, letting out just the smallest laugh. “No V, I can’t say I have. But I’ve taken my share of sucker punches, so I think I get the picture you’re painting.” He lifted the edge of her shirt an inch before meeting her eyes. “You mind?”</p><p>“Go for it.” Her voice, by a miracle, didn’t betray the flutter in her chest. He ran his flat palm up her abdomen in a slow but steady pace, and she wondered if she should have warned him she wasn’t wearing a bra. She thought she felt him waver when he didn’t encounter any fabric, but the doc in him brushed past the fact and focused on applying pressure to the spot she indicated, watching her wince and trying not to exacerbate the pain. She said a silent word of gratitude that he was no longer taking her pulse and couldn’t feel her heart racing.</p><p>V couldn’t pinpoint what it was about Viktor Vektor that made her feel like a little kid with a schoolyard crush. There was no denying he was attractive; all his years fighting had left him with an incredible body and he clearly worked to maintain it. That couldn’t be it though, because as much as she liked him he wasn’t the only good looking guy in Night City. Maybe it was his…consistency. No matter what time of day, what mood he was in, the week’s events, she always knew what to expect with the ripperdoc. He was controlled, measured, and reliable. He didn’t just pump her full of chrome and kick her out, he took the time to talk to her and treat her like a person, not just another Eurodollar. Beyond that, with him she felt safe. From the outside world, from herself, from all the bad thoughts floating around her head.</p><p>“Seems fine from this side, so it’s probably just residual pain receptors acting up from whatever just happened with the chip.” He explained, removing his hand and carefully pulling her shirt back down. “Anywhere else?”</p><p>When she looked at him, all she could think about was how it felt to lose Jackie. She looked at him and saw the bullets that came flying at her day in and day out. Death was coming for her one way or another, and the thought of having it all end without at least <em>trying</em> to reach for some light? It didn’t make much sense. And maybe Jackie’s voice echoing in her head didn’t help, urging her “<em>Chica, if you don’t make a move on Vik soon, Mama’s gonna try to set you up with one of my brothers. </em>Neither <em>of us want that.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah, my lower abdomen.” She said against her better judgement, laying both hands over her stomach. Whether he anticipated her meaning or not, he lightly palpated below her bellybutton but seemed to have trouble feeling much over the borrowed and repurposed pants. He slid his hand just under the waistline, the cool metal of his thumb ring leaving a wave of chills in its wake.</p><p>“Here?” He asked, moving across her skin to try and find the trouble spot.</p><p>“A little lower.” The confidence was bubbling up in her gut now, trying to keep the jagged doubt at bay. He followed her direction without question, moving just a little further south than he had been, but still very much focused on his medical diagnosis. Until, that is, she grew bolder. “Lower.”</p><p>The ripperdoc turned to meet her eye, brow furrowed, and tried to discern the meaning of her words. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked right back at him, unblinkingly. V repeated herself without any shadow of a doubt and watched him process the request, perhaps having some internal dialogue that she wasn’t privy to.</p><p>Whatever the outcome of the discussion, he seemed to break free of the bonds of uncertainty and obliged her request. Rotating his hand, he smoothly slid it down and past the band of her underwear. His fingers were warm as he push through her folds, teasing her entrance before dragging his middle finger up to her clit. He watched her intently as her breath hitched, the brief syllable of a stifled moan escaping her. He ran gentle circles over the sensitive skin and she could already feel the wetness building between her legs. He let out a heavy breath, lips parting slightly as he worked her more earnestly. She swallowed hard and reached a hand down to hold onto his forearm, hips bucking up towards his hand. When a moan came out unhindered, though, she felt the swift and sudden absence of his hand.</p><p>“Dammit.” He muttered under his breath, turning away from her. She blinked at him through cloudy eyes, the confusion hitting her more than the loss of his warmth. “There’s a dozen reasons I shouldn’t be doing this.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” She asked in a small voice, wondering what she’d done wrong. She sat up properly, pulling her knees up to her chest and waiting to hear how she messed up.</p><p>“You’ve had a few drinks, it isn’t right. You’ve got adrenaline pumping through you from the MaxDoc, God knows what the omega blockers do to you.” He hung his head but spoke like he was trying to not just convince her but also himself.</p><p>“How many times me and Jackie finished off a bottle each with you at your clinic? You really think two shots of tequila is gonna take away my ability to make decisions?” She countered, slightly offended that he could rely on such a weak excuse.</p><p>“It’s not just the alcohol.” He turned to face her, some mixture of regret and pity on his face that made her squirm to see. Vik was always calm, always content. That was his whole thing. Mad because of a match he was watching sometimes, sure, but never any kind of emotion like this. And to have it directed at her? “You’re grieving, V. You just lost your best friend. I don’t blame you for trying to fill that void or numb the pain, there’s a helluva lot worse ways people cope. But I’m a ripper, V. I’m <em>your </em>ripper.”</p><p>“This is Night City, Vik. You think the NCPD is gonna show up at your clinic and close you down because you got handsy with a client?” She said incredulously, immediately feeling guilty for her tone. Letting out a quiet sigh, she chewed at her lip once more. The pain stung at her, but at least gave her something else to focus on. “I’m not just trying to fill a void or jump the first warm body that came my way. I don’t…I don’t want to die not having gone for what I wanted. And what I want—who I want—it’s you. Not my ripperdoc, not my cybernetic dealer, but <em>you</em>. Vik Vektor.”</p><p>He looked over at her as she spoke, that internal dialogue going off again inside his mind. It was the first time in her life that she felt fully exposed while still fully clothed. The look of pity melted away from his face and was replaced with one of weakness. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, he pushed the fabric up to his elbows, a spark of heat sizzling to life in her core at the sight alone. He turned fully to face her and moved closer while instructing her “Lay back, V.”</p><p>She pressed a hand to his chest to keep him at bay while she looked him in the eye. “Not unless you want this too.”</p><p>He lay his palm over hers and held it there for a moment before moving it to the couch beside her. “Got nothin’ to worry about on that front.” He admitted, and then said in a quieter voice perhaps not meant for her to hear, “<em>you got no idea what you do to me</em>.”</p><p>V lay down as he commanded, heart racing in her chest as he crawled atop her. Resting his left arm between the couch cushion and her body, he propped himself above her and lay his right hand on her hip. She reached up to take off his sunglasses, carefully setting them on the table, and wet her lips in anticipation. As he leaned over her, the small golden boxing gloves hanging from his neck drifted out from his dress shirt and hovered like a pendulum. Licking his index and middle fingers, he slipped them under her pants and quickly moved back to where he had left off. This time, the hunger was no longer barricaded. She could see a lust in his eyes that mirrored her own, a sensation that flourished in her and sent a shiver down her spine.</p><p>She didn’t try to quiet herself when his fingers finally made contact. He took his time, lazily dragging his fingers up and down her slit and further coating them in her slick. Spreading her folds open with his index and ring finger, the ripperdoc drew repetitive patterns atop her clit with his middle fingertip. His touch alone had her shivering with every move, her hips betraying her as they desperately grinded against his hand. The sensation was enough, more than enough to be honest, but he went above and beyond when he brought his lips to her neck. She could feel herself melt at that, the way he lapped at her skin like he was getting paid. Like he needed her to survive. As he gently bit at her skin, his fingers drifted lower and lower. She felt herself tense up as he tested the waters, circling her entrance over and over until she relaxed. Then, and only then, did he ease one finger inside her. He did so painfully slow, one knuckle at a time, and waited there until he knew she was used to it.</p><p>Bit by bit he built a momentum, lips trained her neck the whole time. Her breathing was so shallow she was certain he must hear it, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel ashamed of it. This was exactly what she wanted, and she wouldn’t let any self-doubt ruin it for her. When Vik moved his lips up to her jawline he added a second finger, pulling away from her just far enough to watch her face as he did so. He had never been this close before, not when she could see him anyway, and she took in the smattering of freckles that covered his face. He slid his left hand under her neck to get a good grip on her as he started to move his hand vigorously. V’s knees came up on either side of him, desperate to take him in deeper, a string of moans ripping out from her vocal chords.</p><p>He scattered kisses all over her jawline, her cheek, her neck, her collarbones, but never her lips. She found herself wondering, among her curse words, how long it had been for him. She wondered if he had any inkling just how long it’d been for her. Maybe that was why he was so intently focused on getting her to the finish line, or maybe he was just that courteous for all his dalliances. Regardless of the reason, she was grateful.</p><p>As he worked to curl his fingers inside her, she nearly screamed out when he hit an extra sensitive patch of nerves. Her eyes slammed shut as her body began to tremble, breath choppy as it left her lungs.</p><p>“Come on, V.” He said suddenly, the low-tone of his voice shooting right down to her core. She was practically squirming in his grip, unable to keep up with the pleasure. “I know you’re close. I’d like to see that pretty face when you come undone.”</p><p>“F-fuck Vik.” She stammered out, filing her body’s response to his voice alone under <em>to be dealt with later</em>. She caught the fleeting sight of a smirk across his face but before she knew it, she was barrelling towards the finish line. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew her nails were digging into his forearm, but if he minded, he certainly wasn’t saying anything about it. Within moments she felt a fireworks display take over her nerves, branching out from her core and emanating outwards. She cried out at the sensation, knees pressing in sharply to the ripperdoc’s sides as she shuddered violently. She held onto his arm, even as he slowly eased his fingers out of her, knowing she was too weak to move.</p><p>In the swirling aftermath of her high, she was relieved there was music in the background so they weren’t left with their silence. She didn’t know if she should say something, or wait until he did, or if she should just prepare for him to leave. The latter, out of all the options, was what she wanted least. While he had certainly succeeded in undoing her, she’d be damned if she didn’t try to return the favour. This wasn’t a joytoy she wanted to get a quick fix from. This was…well, it was Vik. Whether or not she knew how to put it into words, he meant something to her. A whole lot of something.</p><p>As soon as she could manage to move, the haziness of the climax still lingering in her system, she sat up properly. V kicked away the table to make room and knelt down between the ripperdoc’s legs. She wasted no time in undoing his belt, a gentle hand on her shoulder the only attempt at slowing her down.</p><p>“V, you don’t—You—” He feebly protested, watching with heady eyes as she unzipped his dress pants and yanked at the button. Pushing down the hem just enough, she was more than a little satisfied to see he wasn’t entirely unaffected by their encounter. V didn’t know what she expected, despite how often she had found herself fantasizing about this very moment, but he did <em>not</em> disappoint. Her eyes went a little wide without her consent, but in the back of her mind she knew flattery counted for more than a suave persona in the moment.</p><p>She reached out and wrapped both hands around him, slowly pumping a few times to get them both used to the sensation. V watched carefully as his eyes followed her hands, more than a little lust-ridden. When she got down to the base, she leaned forward to dance her tongue in circles around the head of his cock. Vik let out a low groan at that, hands digging into the sofa cushion beneath him. As she took him into her mouth, she could practically hear his jaw clenching.</p><p>“<em>Jesus.</em>” He hissed, reaching out to push all her hair to one side so he could watch her better. He slouched down a little so she could take him easier, watching as she bobbed up and down the length of him. Each time she pulled up to the tip she flicked her tongue across it, taking immense satisfaction in the noises she was able to coax out of him. If she could make him feel even a fraction as good as he made her feel, it would be a win in her books.</p><p>She worked at the ripperdoc with precision, using both hands and her mouth to stimulate him as best she could. Now and again his hips jerked up into her despite his efforts at self-control, and she nearly melted at the feeling of his fingers tangling into her hair. He wasn’t trying to direct her, wasn’t trying move her one way or another, he just wanted to be touching her. Just feeling his skin on hers sent heat to her core again. She fought against the gag reflex as she took him in deeper and deeper, the sound of curses never sounding as sweet as they did in his voice.</p><p>Before she knew it, he was pulling away from her entirely. She looked up at him, worried that something was wrong or worse that he was having second thoughts. Instead, she realized he was just trying to hold out a little longer. Catching his breath, he looked down at her wordlessly. She made use of the silence to pry off his shoes and peel his pants and boxers to the ground. V got to her feet and lifted her shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it off to the side. His eyes were taking in every inch of skin as she moved to her pants and underwear, letting them join his on the ground. Crawling onto his lap, she felt the length of him press against her, the sensation enough to make her heart flutter in anticipation. When she started to lift up his shirt he obliged, helping her by removing it entirely. Placing his hands on her hips, he drank in the view as she slid as close as she could. V rolled her hips forward, dragging herself along the length of him and releasing a contented sigh. When the head of his cock hitched on her clit she ground down a few times before sliding right back down. There was no illusion of where this was heading anymore, and the ripperdoc seemed to be very aware of this.</p><p>“V. You can still bow out.” He said seriously, though unable to actually look her in the eye. He was fixated on the sight of her grinding against him, swallowing hard at the sensation. “No…No harm if you want to call it quits.”</p><p>“Don’t want to call it quits.” She grumbled, trying to focus on how good it felt to have him touching her.</p><p>“This here’s the line, V. No going back for us once we cross it.” Maybe he was trying to make sure she was fully aware of how it would change their dynamic, or maybe he was just trying to mentally prepare <em>himself</em> for what he was about to do. Either way, it didn’t change how she felt. Laying her hands on either side of his face, she drew close so he had no choice but to hear her proper.</p><p>“Vik, <em>I just want you inside me</em>.” She breathed desperately, searching his eyes for any other fight she’d have to go up against. At long last, she saw no resistance—only resolve. He lay his palm flat on the small of her back, pulling her close to him, and used his free hand to reach down between them. He slid his tip through her folds until he reached her entrance, pushing into her even slower than he had with his fingers.</p><p>V gripped at his shoulders, forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. When he was fully seated in her they froze, both adjusting to the newfound sensation of each others’ bodies. It was a stretch, to say the least, but given all the pain and discomfort she’d had in the recent past this was by far preem-tier. Reaching behind to rest both hands on his knees, V leaned back to support herself and slowly lifted off of him. Just before losing him entirely, she sank back down, every ounce of stress and tension easing out of her body at the feeling. After a few more repetitions she was comfortable enough to build up a pace, rolling her hips towards him over and over.</p><p>“<em>God-fucking-dammit you feel good</em>.” He growled, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises in their wake. It satisfied her beyond measure to see his control slip, even just a little. His arms, those boxer-built would-be killing machines, were straining against the urge to take over. She followed the string of tattoos down his right arm with her eyes, watching as his fingers twitched against her skin. If she had a choice of how and when to die, it’d be that moment. Watching him want her, watching him in pleasure, feeling him on her and in her—not many deaths better than that waiting in Night City.</p><p>V leaned forward and braced herself on the back of the couch, hands holding tight to the fabric on either side of his head. He responded by sliding a hand up her back and pulling her closer. Leaning forward, he licked at her nipple a few times before gently biting it. She whimpered at that, struggling to keep her pace against the way he was making her dizzy. He continued his reverence, moving from breast to breast, being equally generous with his time and attention. Between that and the feeling of him inside her, it was almost too much to handle. He brought his lips to her neck again, all the sensations making her whimper his name like a prayer.</p><p>That seemed to trigger the end of his ability to sit back and enjoy the ride. He reached up to take her hands off the couch and effortlessly lifted her off of him. Turning their bodies, he lay her down softly on the couch and crawled over her. Settling between her legs, he pressed a line of attentive and deliberate kisses from her navel, up to each nipple, over both collarbones and her jaw, before stopping himself. He was mere inches from her lips, but acted like a sleepwalker rudely awoken. Much like fucking was different from fingering, kissing clearly meant something very different to him. He wasn’t holding back out of lack of interest, though; perhaps lack of consent. He was old school that way. She’d told him to fuck her, not to kiss her.</p><p>To allay the deliberation in his mind, and also out of selfish need to taste him, she lay both hands on his cheeks and brought her lips up to meet his. It may have been because they’d held off until that point, or maybe because it was just the effect Vik had on her, but the kiss could have melted her then and there. The sex felt like background noise compared to feeling his lips on hers, to feel him kiss her back in earnest. His tongue slipped past hers as he deepened the kiss, his sole focus now on the gesture. He slipped a hand under her head and trailed the other down her side. Goosebumps rose in his wake, her body curving up towards him out of instinct. Sealed off together in her apartment from the outside world, caged in by his arms, towered over by him, nothing could touch her there. She was bulletproof.</p><p>When they broke apart to catch their breath, he took the chance to push back into her. A moan escaped her, no shame left to hold it back, and she locked her ankles around him to stay close. His nose nudged her jaw before he kissed her again, swallowing her sounds whole and returning a few himself. V reached up to run her hands through his hair, trailing them down his neck and shoulders before resting them on his biceps. He looked her in the eye, as if gauging her preparedness, and quickly began to pick up the pace.</p><p>The pillows on the couch beneath her shifted in time with their movement, the cheap fabric scratching against her skin. He was no longer taking them on a journey, he was driving them right the fuck home. With each movement, the cool metal of his boxing glove pendant tapped against her chest. The wet sound of their bodies smacking together was so loud it drowned out the radio, but it wasn’t long before that too was overtaken with her sounds. Her whole body seemed to clench around him, back arching upwards until their chests were pressed together.</p><p>“<em>Fuuuuuuck</em>.” He cursed in a drawn-out tone through gritted teeth, slamming his eyes shut. Curse words she could handle, even enjoyed, but he caught her off guard by saying something rare: he moaned out her full name. It was a brief, breathless <em>Valerie</em> but it stuck out as if he’d screamed it.</p><p>No one called her by her full name. Not her clients, not her fixers, not even her friends. Jackie’d said it once as a joke and she whipped an empty takeout container at his head. Vik had used her full name exactly once: when he told her about the Relic. Never since, at least until now. She had issues with her name, baggage even, but hearing it fall out of his mouth like that…it hit different.</p><p>True gentleman, he waited just long enough for her to crumble beneath him before allowing himself to finish. Mere seconds apart, he quickly pulled out of her and spent himself on her abdomen. She was practically seeing stars, what felt like every last nerve ending in her body drenched in fire. Vik stayed right there with her, eyes trained on her expressions as they shifted from blind euphoria to a subtle afterglow.</p><p>“Goddamn, Viktor Vektor.” She breathed, finally releasing his arms so she could reach up to wipe the sweat from her brow. He drew close and kissed her, but this time felt different. Less like a post-sex sloppy kiss and more like a savour the moment, goodbye kiss. For her benefit or his, she didn’t know.</p><p>He slowly sat up and got to his feet, walking over to her bathroom and grabbing a towel off the rack. Running the water until it was warm, he got a corner of the towel wet and brought it back to her. She wiped herself off and managed to sit up, reaching for her shirt and underwear. Vik grabbed his boxers but left the rest, waiting for her to stumble over to her bed before joining her. She scooted over to the inside and kicked down the covers, watching silently as he crawled in after her. After such rigorous activity and satisfying exchange, she desperately hope for a true night’s sleep.</p><p>Vik didn’t object as she drew close to lay on his chest, instead ensuring that the blankets were covering her properly before laying his head back on the pillow. What V didn’t know was that she would have the best sleep of her life—first life or second—which would be followed by a very rude awakening in the morning to a cold and empty bed. Blind to the impending feelings heading her way, she felt a fleeting moment of peace in the boxer-turned-ripperdoc’s arms.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Heavy Hitter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Like I said I'm leaving the possibility for a third chapter open as I play through more of the game, but for the time being this is all I have planned. Thanks for reading!<br/>EDIT 04/19/21: I will be adding a final chapter! Almost finished with it so it shouldn't be too much longer.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the usual foot traffic outside Misty’s Esoterica. The bright lights from the building behind V shifted from colour to colour, painting her skin in different hues as she stubbornly waited for the time to change. She’d made a deal with herself, and wasn’t about to break it now.</p><p>604,800. 10,080. 168. 7.</p><p>The whole thing was pathetic and she was painfully aware of the fact, but what other structure was left in her life to count on? Metaphorically <em>and</em> literally speaking. 604,800 seconds. She wasn’t even at the door yet and her stomach was a messy bundle of nerves, like the server room of a not-for-profit whose only tech help was a newbie still in school. There was nothing neat, tidy, or properly colour-coded about the way she was feeling.</p><p>Gary was spouting off his usual nonsense about the Alpha Centaurii, his voice standing out amongst the other noises in the street. Cars in the distance, sirens a little further out, and three different radios overlapping into white noise. 10,080 minutes. Gary was absolutely batshit crazy, but he was harmless. He wasn’t charming enough to have the vulnerable youth of Night City eating out of his hands, nor was he powerful enough to pull any strings behind the curtain. If he was, he sure as fuck wouldn’t be doing it from a back alley. So when he asked her for a spare eddie, she’d give. You don’t ask, you don’t get. You do ask, sometimes you still don’t get. But he didn’t try to recruit her, so he wasn’t on her shitlist.</p><p>Looking down at her forearm, she wondered how much time it would buy her once she was finally inside. Would she be able to get the words out? Would she chicken out and just settle for feigning ignorance for the rest of her miserable life? Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. 168 hours. No, no he had to be there. She got his message blast just like every other client who went to the ripperdoc. Weekly hours, when he was staying late, when he closed up early, when he got new cybernetics. He said he’d be open, so she trusted that.</p><p>Trust. She almost scoffed at it. She’d trusted him, and where did it get her? Alone and angry and sadder than she wanted to admit. But there had to be a reason, right? Could she really have been that wrong about the ripper? Misread him to that extent? No. She was all kinds of fucked up but Jackie trusted him. Mama did. She couldn’t see him dropping her like that. Making just one night out of it, sure, but to just disappear?</p><p>7 days. To the day, hour, minute, second. It was 7 days since she kissed him. 7 days since she fucked him. 7 days since he murmured her name in a breathless voice, a scene she had replayed dozens of times since. 7 days since she heard from him. V told herself that to reach out sooner was weakness, to wait longer was masochism. So she stood outside of Misty’s, the smoke from the sandalwood incense wafting out onto the street, waiting for the clock to change. Waiting for the sun to set faster, the crowd to shift from day to night, waiting for her chance at closure.</p><p>When the alarm went off at 10:18, she nearly jumped to her feet. Now that her self-imposed barrier was lifted, the hesitancy hit her. Second thoughts, self-doubt. Was she really ready to be told to fuck off? To forget about it? To be treated like a silly little girl who read in between lines that just weren’t there? She had to be. Only madness awaited her otherwise. Madness, and that long drive into the Badlands. A question mark for an ending point. Worse than ellipses; no chance for interpretation.</p><p>Pushing off the wall, V wove between the people on the street and entered the quiet safety of Misty’s little shop. The familiar face looked up at the prospect of a new customer, but didn’t harden to disappointment when she realized who it was. She instead offered her signature half-sad smile, chin in her hand, and waved. Even though the door to the street was still open, there was something about the shop that cut down on the interference of the outside world. Maybe it was the gentle ring of bells, or the incense, or maybe all her crystals and statues and other trinkets really did work.</p><p>“Heya, Misty.” She leaned on the counter across from the girl. “You alright?”</p><p>“I think so. Not easy you know, putting my life back together…without him.” She admitted, eyes drifting down for a moment. “And you?”</p><p>“I’m just peachy.” She joked, pushing off the counter and walking around to the other side of the pillar. Nodding towards the back door, she crossed both arms over her chest. “The doc in?”</p><p>“Yep, just finished with a…well, a real chromedome. Never seen someone with a whole skull swap before. Kinda…eerie.” She shook at the image before returning her attention to V. “You getting an upgrade or repair?”</p><p>“Repair, unfortunately. Got my smartlink sliced to hell on a gig.” She showed the marks on the underside of her forearm, where the dermapatch disguised as a tattoo sat from Wakako Okada. Misty crinkled her nose at the sight, wishing her well. V thanked her, walking past the four-armed statue and through the small storage area before pushing on the door.</p><p>The alleyway was full of the same discarded newspaper, cardboard, and graffiti as always. She could hear the distant voice of Gary bellowing out his conspiracy theories. She was happy to find that no one else was there, as if she was heading to some secret rendezvous. The garbage bin that sat in front of the side entrance for the Hotel was overflowing, and she wondered if the staff had taken an indefinite holiday again. Crossing over to the staircase, V descended through the green-tinted light to the nondescript door. While other ripperdocs liked to do their share of advertising (in most cases, too much for her liking), Vik preferred to keep things a little quieter. Didn’t want just any cyberpsycho off the street wandering in; he left them for the less selective of his colleagues.</p><p>Pushing on the door, it slid open with ease and she found herself in the all-too-familiar clinic. She felt her heartrate pick up, pulling open the security grate and wandering into the empty main room. There was no one on the operating chair, and no doctor at the desk. Instead just his belongings were there to greet her. The familiar odds and ends that pulled together to paint a picture of the ripperdoc. From the back room she heard a voice, <em>his </em>voice, calling out.</p><p>“Be with ya in a sec.”</p><p>She wandered past the only corpo logo in the place: a bright neon sign for Kiroshi Optics sitting on the ground. One of the Lucky Cats waved repetitively at her from atop his desk, sitting amongst several of its brethren and nestled in between pliers and clean gauze. She walked close to the upper shelves, running her fingertips along the plaques on each of his boxing trophies.</p><p>When Jackie’d first told her that Vik was a living legend of Night City, she had a hard time believing it. Not because he didn’t look the part, but because he was so…normal. With all the fame he had at the peak of his career, and all the respect he still garnered since he walked away from it all, she had come to expect a real preem-tier asshole. Someone who punches people for a living stood to be a lot less kind and a lot more greedy. But that wasn’t Vik. Not as she knew him, anyways, and not as anyone else seemed to think of him. The peak of his showmanship seemed to be the custom plugs that spelled out K.O. in his ears.</p><p>The red lights reflected off her nail polish as she reached for a pile of shards sitting atop his desk. A Fuyutsuki reader sat beside them, reader still open, and behind it all a few crumpled pieces of real paper. A permanent marker sat atop the back of a poster, the paper covered by the shards. She moved a few of them out of the way and found just two words beneath. The culmination of what looked like six attempts to get something down and still finding trouble doing so. In thick black ink, he wrote ‘V. I’m—’ and that was all. She felt her stomach sink at the sight, hand rushing to cover everything back up as she’d found it.</p><p>“Sorry ‘bout the wait.” Vik said from behind her, causing her to spin to face him. He was wiping his hands off with a towel, stopping in his tracks at the realization of who his next client was. They stood in a palpable silence, neither sure how to address the other. All the shitty things she thought about him fizzled when his eyes met hers. She knew, then and there, that no matter what she wanted, she didn’t deserve him. A beloved pillar of the community, a Rockstar in his own right, she was nothing in his wake.</p><p>“No worries.” She managed, regretting choosing the outfit she did. It was some chromed-up dress she lifted off a corpo who picked a fight with her in a bar, too tight for her own good and lacking much of the protection her usual bomber jacket offered. She’d donned it hoping against hope that it could somehow sway the night’s events. A stupid, childish, and frankly laughable idea. “Hoping you can fix my smartlink.”</p><p>“Take a seat.” He said easily, nodding towards the operating chair while grabbing his wheeled chair from the desk. She walked over and set her pistol down on the small table that folded out of the chair’s side before sitting on the edge. Swinging her legs up, she shimmied back so her back hit the well-worn cushion.</p><p>The ripperdoc stood at her side, dousing his hands with an alcohol solution to keep them clean, and then pulled on his exoglove. Fishing a screwdriver from the medical pouch tied to his leg, he tightened it in a few places and flexed the extended joints until he was satisfied with the fit. He reached over her lap to push away the unnecessary diagnostic equipment leftover from the previous client. Lifting up the fold-away support for her arm, he drew close and motioned for her to lift her arm. She resisted the urge to chew at her lip as soon as his skin touched hers. She couldn’t look at him without remembering how his lips felt on hers, how his—</p><p>“Jesus, V. What happened?” He was lacking the usual teasing he had when he saw to her minor injuries in the past. This was straight up, bare-faced concern. It helped to rip her from her thoughts, at least, and gave her something to focus on.</p><p>“Well, I took a gig from a guy in Afterlife, who told me to find a freezer on the docks. There was a guy in said freezer, who just so happened to be hunted by the Tyger Claws. So between the shoot-out and carrying the stow-away to a car trunk to bring him to his new life in Night City, one of the Claws got me good with their Katana.” She explained, teetering on the edge of some semblance of how they used to be.</p><p>“I’d say they got you better than good.” He said under his breath, leaning in close to get a good look at the jagged scar on her arm. In amongst her body’s feeble attempt at first-layer scar tissue, the smartlink was in there, connectors frayed and rendered useless. “How long ago this happen?”</p><p>“Just yesterday.” She shrugged, watching as he sat in his chair and rolled as close as he could to her. He poked and prodded at the skin as gently as he could, working out a plan of attack to get her back to baseline. What she may have left out of her story was her less-than-casual recklessness when it came to fighting. She had been less than 24 hours out from her self-imposed deadline, and if she didn’t have a legitimate medical reason to be at his clinic things would have just been even more awkward than she feared. She was hoping for a bullet graze or even just a well-placed punch; but clearly she got more than she bargained for.</p><p>“You should have called me, V.” He said quietly, looking up to meet her eye.</p><p>And that was it. That was all it took to bring everything she was avoiding feeling right back up to the surface. A full-force car crash into an unforgiving brick wall. V realized that when he’d told her before there was a point of no return for them, this is what he was talking about. It wasn’t some happily-ever-after that she had initiated in her apartment, it was a permanent shift in the way things were. She hadn’t gained a lover, she’d lost another friend.</p><p>Got one killed, fucked the other. What a way to end up lonely.</p><p>When he turned his attention back to her arm, she watched as he reached for a pre-filled syringe from a tray on the table behind him. Pulling the skin around her injury taut, and hovered the needle above her arm. “Little pinch.” He warned, prepping her before injecting what she could only assume was local anesthesia. The cool sensation confirmed it, and she looked away when he brought out the scalpel. Why she could handle blowing some guy’s head off with a shotgun but not the sight of her own arm having very minor surgery was beyond her, but she didn’t feel like passing out so she opted to avert her eyes.</p><p>“You gotta be careful using BounceBack after a hit like this. S’not like gangoons to clean their blades that often, so the rapid-heal function can trap some of the bad stuff in here.” Vik made a habit of talking while he sliced, probably to cover up the sound of flesh being cut open for wusses like her. She heard what he was saying but didn’t really listen, instead focusing on the surroundings to keep her mind busy.</p><p>From the chair she could see the white paint stain on the floor from the previous owners of the space, the punching bag hanging from the ceiling, and half of the personal storage room Vik used for his workout gear. The extension of his trophy collection was set up there, some still in boxes from when he first opened his clinic. He had free weights and dumbbells all around, a bench sitting just out of view beyond a small table. The gate had long since closed behind her, the same accordion-type closure that was used in the older Megabuilding elevators in Night City.</p><p>“I think this smartlink staved off what should have been some nerve damage.” The ripperdoc announced, fishing out the thin, flimsy biofilm and connectors that synced her brain to the receiver in her pistol. It was covered in blood but thankfully not dripping too fierce for her to look at. He lay it on a clean tray and cleaned it off, keeping an eye on her arm while he fixed up the connectors on the device. </p><p>“Guess I owe Okada for that one.” She winced at the realization the one of the things on Vik’s wall was a step-by-step diagram on how to amputate an arm. Not exactly the kind of reading material one wanted to see when their arm was currently pried open. She turned her attention to the trophies, focusing in on her scanner to try and read the finer details. The brief smell of soldered metal wafted in the air as he worked on the smartlink, studying his work before bringing the patched device back to her. While she couldn’t feel pain, she could still feel pressure as he worked to get the device connected to her once more.</p><p>“Wanna give it a try before I stitch you up?” Vik asked from her side. She took hold of her pistol with her left hand, not wanting to risk moving her dominant hand in its condition. Taking aim off-centre at the Kiroshi logo, she watched as the smartlink interface flashed to life. It provided a rectangular guide and showed two blue targets: one where she was aiming, and another in the centre of the logo where it would redirect her ammo once the trigger was pulled.</p><p>“Looks good to me.” She nodded, setting the pistol down again. He wasted no time in securing the last node inside her arm, carefully cleaning the edges of the wound and pulling her skin together to make his tell-tale stitches. There wasn’t a ripper in Night City who left you looking as neat as Vik did post-op. Jackie always said if he hadn’t seen the ex-boxer do the work himself, he’d have sworn a drone tapped in for the suture work.</p><p>“Alright, you know the drill.” He tossed the used scalpel and other tools into a separate tray to be disposed of and sterilized respectively, getting up from his chair to study her arm function. He bent her arm at the elbow and then each of her fingers, checking for any rigidity. “Stitches’ll dissolve on their own, just try not to agitate it. And this…will help minimize the scarring.”</p><p>He took a tube out of his handy bag of tools on his thigh, uncapping it and squeezing a small amount onto the line up her forearm. It responded quickly to the heat of her skin, spreading out and then soaking into her pores. She thanked him, immediately transferring the funds before he had the chance to say otherwise like he did with her optics.</p><p>“Thanks, Vik.” She rolled down her sleeve and resisted the urge to poke at the suture site. His eyes momentarily flashed blue as her payment went through, his mouth opening to speak but stopping short. She sat up straight and swung her legs over the edge of the chair, facing away from the ripperdoc while he fiddled with his tools. She braced her hands on the cushion, the vinyl coating having long-since started to deteriorate. With her back to him and the piercing power of his gaze neutralized, she bit the bullet and said her piece. “So…you dine and dash with all your girls or did I just draw the short straw?”</p><p>The sound of him fiddling with his tools immediately stopped. The whole room fell silent, save for the background hum of the building’s ventilation system. She couldn’t bring herself to look in his direction, choosing instead to pick up her pistol and pretend it needed tending to. She heard as he turned to face her but, upon seeing her back, let out a sigh.</p><p>“I didn’t…That wasn’t what I…” He stopped and started with whatever reasoning was in his head, and she worked her absolute hardest to try and keep cool. Be easy. Be chill. Be unbothered. That’s what men wanted right? Don’t show any attachment? Or worse, be seen as clingy?</p><p>“Not asking for a marriage proposal Vik, just thought you would have said goodbye is all.” She tried to sound light, tried not to acknowledge the stinging sensation building up in her eyes. Sometimes, she hated being human. Drones didn’t get hung up on feelings of failure. ‘Saka bots didn’t get the blues. She knew she must have fucked up when she heard him wheel the chair over into her line of sight, then take a deliberate seat in front of her.</p><p>“V, I’m sorry. I shouldn’ta just left.” He admitted freely, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “I just didn’t want to…You get to a certain age, you drop all your illusions. Didn’t want to see somethin’ where there wasn’t nothin’ for me to see.”</p><p>She looked up at him at that, trying to puzzle out what he was saying. Holding up a hand, she closed her eyes to untangle his meaning. “Vik, you really think I just took you for a joyride?” She asked incredulously, meeting his eye for the first time. “You think I’m that cruel, that I’d sleep with you just to scratch an itch?”</p><p>“You’re young, V. You’re beautiful. You’re more capable at surviving in this city than most. I won’t pretend you don’t have plenty of other options.” He explained easily with a shrug, like it was some truth he had resigned himself to. Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, half-stunned at his response. She set down her gun and tried to make sense of her head.</p><p>“Are you…<em>really</em> saying that you think <em>I’m</em> the one settling here?” She asked in disbelief. “You’re Viktor fucking Vektor, and I’m a flatlined nobody. I’m reaching <em>so</em> far out of my league; and clearly not even doing a very good job of it if we’re having this conversation.”</p><p>He heaved out a sigh and got to his feet, drawing close and apprehensively laying his hand on her knee. Absently tapping his other knuckle on the cushion beside her, he shook his head. “The hell you want a washed-up old fighter like me for?”</p><p>V looked away from him, a blush rising to her cheeks at his question. Her heart was doing backflips in her chest, the placement of his hand spreading fire in her veins. “You really gonna make me spell it out, doc?”</p><p>He brought his hand up to her cheek, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. Her stomach was a mess of nerves and anticipation as she watched him, unable to blink. He said nothing, opting instead to kiss her. Like if he didn’t then, he may not get the chance to later. He moved his hand to the back of her head, stepping in between her legs to be closer. She lay her palms flat on his chest, quickly moving them behind his neck to keep him from retreating. He kissed her slowly at first, a languid set of motions that frustrated as much as they exhilarated. But it wasn’t long before he deepened the kiss, coming at her over and over with power. The hand on her knee smoothly slid up her thigh, dipping under the fabric of her dress to settle on her waist. V could feel the blossom of heat emanate from between her legs, the anticipation of what this meant and where it could lead setting a fire in her belly. However sweet it tasted to kiss him the first time, it grew exponentially in the face of a little honesty.</p><p>It wasn’t apprehension, or nerves, or even doubt that pulled the ripperdoc away from her. It was the very loud banging on the clinic door followed by its immediate opening. V watched, a little shellshocked at the sudden change of pace, as a group of five men strolled into the clinic. They were lacking the kind of armaments she expected from gangoons, with only one of them actually carrying a machete, but the size of their muscles and bodies in general told her all she needed to know. These guys were Animals, no doubt about it. The one with the machete dragged the blade along the metal gate separating the crew from V and the ripperdoc, metal clanging menacingly on metal. Despite not knowing if they were there for her or him, she knew a threat when she saw one. As soon as the leader of the pack pushed open the gate, V grabbed her pistol and trained it right between his eyes.</p><p>“I got this, V.” Vik said from her side, reaching a hand out to lower her weapon. She frowned, looking over at him and wondering why the hell he wasn’t telling her to shoot; then she remembered his rule. He took a few steps towards the group, positioning himself squarely between them and her, and crossed both arms over his chest. “Blaze. In the flesh. Guess the split jaw on your new recruit over there wasn’t a clear enough message.”</p><p>“Oh it was crystal-fuckin’-clear, Viky boy.” The leader said. He stood at least a foot taller than the others who were with him, head shaved with a massive scar going down over his eye. Looked like the electrical burn from an optic implant gone bad. Big lout must’ve taken his chances with some back-alley ripper. “See, when Adrian here came by it was an offer. Distribute our ana’roids to your clients, take a cut for your trouble. Now, <em>I’m</em> here. And I’m here with fuckin’ orders.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Viktor replied, tone unamused. He pulled the pack of cigarettes that was tucked into the folded-over hem of his sleeve and tossed them onto the operating chair. In anticipation of what may come next, his stethoscope soon followed, along with the pocket of blades and tools strapped to his leg.</p><p>“Yeah. Order one: you’re gonna make room in your megacooler for our supply. Buy another unit if you have to. Order two: you’re gonna push to our customers and yours too. Tell ‘em its for pain, I don’t give a shit.” Blaze said, the group of men with him twitching in preparation for some action. Or maybe they were just tweaked out of their minds on ‘roids, V couldn’t tell. “Play nice and maybe we won’t burn this place to the ground. Refuse and…well, there won’t be much left of you to complain. Maybe we take your girl here for a few laps around the block with the boys, too. See if she likes the…<em>implants</em> we put inside her.”</p><p>“You can fucking die trying.” V piped up, lifting her gun again as the gangoons laughed, rattling the metal gate behind them like a cage. She was ready to drop every single one of them before they could so much as land a punch on Vik, but his hardwired morality switch was holding her back. Whether it was all the rules drilled into him from his boxing matches, or the insinuation of a Hippocratic Oath for those who became rippers, or maybe it was just his good old-fashioned upbringing, he had a rule.</p><p>Viktor Vektor didn’t kill people. Not for kicks, not for eddies, and certainly not in his clinic. The fact that this crew from the Animals had even dared showing up with violent intentions was a big violation of Night City’s unwritten rule: no killing in grey zones. And clinics were about the biggest grey zone there was. No Man’s Land incarnate, gangs kept their feuds away from the good doctors. Because no one knew when it would be them on the slab, bleeding out, praying their enemy didn’t bust through the door.</p><p>“Did you catch that, V?” The ripperdoc asked, turning to face her just long enough to unbutton his somewhat dishevelled shirt. She looked at him in confusion, missing the point of his question entirely. He shook his head and turned back to the group, rotating his head and cupping a hand against his ear. “Say that once more, would ya?”</p><p>Blaze laughed, and his cronies followed suit. The man took two steps forward, unnatural arms swinging as he walked. Vik moved to meet him in between their respective parties, facing him fully. “I <em>said</em>—”</p><p>V watched as Vik wound his arm back and reeled it forward, delivering two swift punches to Blaze’s ribs and following it with an uppercut that sent him staggering backwards. The sudden attack caught the Animals off guard, not one of them having the wherewithal to anticipate such a move. The ripperdoc didn’t wait for the others to catch their breath, instead grabbing the machete-wielding bandaged one by the collar and yanking him forward. Vik knocked the blade out of his hands, sending it clattering to the ground a few feet away. With a single, well-aimed punch to the face, a few teeth clattered to the ground as the first of the gang collapsed—out cold. As he turned to land a punch on the next one’s jaw, a third member ripped him away. V followed all of the action with her gun, ready to shoot if she thought he was in danger of being overrun. Shoot to maim, not to kill, that’s what she told herself.</p><p>Truth be told, though, if it was Vik’s life on the line she didn’t know if she could truly adhere to his rule.</p><p>As the third ganger landed a powerful punch square in Vik’s chest, she was certain she saw the wind knocked out of him. He hunched over out of reflex but recovered quickly, responding in kind with a well-landed punch of his own. Judging from the reaction of the ganger, the sheer impact broke something in his arm—if not multiple something. He cried out, a piercing sound, and clutched his arm tightly. Vik followed up with a hit to his shoulder, the man’s scream continuing as the injured arm hung slack at his side. At this point Blaze was back in business, pushing past the other two gangers and swinging wildly at the ripperdoc with blind fury.</p><p>Vik’s body responded with decades-old instinct, hands immediately going up to block his face as he bounced around on his feet to dodge. Once, twice, three times Blaze failed to hit the target, all the while Vik keeping an eye on the remaining Animals. It seemed that they acknowledged their leader’s right to a one-on-one; that, or they were too chicken-shit to go up against Vik now that they’d seen what he’d done to their comrades.</p><p>Blaze was firmly on the offensive, to the point where V wondered if he even knew how to work his defense. Whatever he knew or thought of Vik, he clearly couldn’t match him in technical ability. Some part of him must have recognized this after half a dozen attempts to land a punch falling flat. Vik dodged all of them with ease, staying just close enough to make the ganger try again, but not so close as to risk actually getting hit. V realized she hadn’t actually seen vids of the ripperdoc fighting, and here she was with free front-row seats to his latest match. He was impressive even to someone who knew nothing about the sport. From a fighter’s perspective, though, it did all sorts of things to her insides to see the power behind his punches.</p><p>What looked like Vik leaving himself open on his right side proved to be well-placed bait, luring the Animal in to throw a wide high punch. Vik easily ducked and slammed his fist so hard into the man that V <em>heard</em> his ribs crack. Blaze’s eyes went wide at the sensation, Vik taking the opportunity to hit him square in the face with his dominant hand, crashing into the man’s nose audibly. Looking at the broken man with satisfaction, the ripperdoc wiped at his nose and turned his attention to the two remaining gangers.</p><p>“You boys wanna find your friends another ‘doc, or find one for yourselves too?” He asked without any hint of anger. Maybe he knew they were just following orders, but he was a much better person than she was for taking the time to make the distinction. The shorter one grabbed hold of the guy who’d been knocked out, dragging him towards the stairs without a second thought. The one with the broken arm followed at his heels, but the last was torn between fleeing and leaving the still-breathing boss who would likely kick all of their asses when all was said and done. When he took a step towards Blaze, Vik wagged his finger at him. “He stays. You go.”</p><p>The man didn’t need to be told twice. He was gone before Blaze could even look to see which one of his men had stayed the longest. V watched carefully as the crew leader crawled towards the machete, hand outstretched. Knowing there was no longer a threat, she lay her pistol on the table and slid off the operating chair, walking calmly over to the blade and cementing her heel atop it. He looked up to meet her eye, blood pouring down his face, but before he could manage any words the ripperdoc was crouching beside him.</p><p>“Now that we’re done with all that, I hope you have your answer. I will not be touching your drugs. Like I told you last time, I’m not in the habit of makin’ empty threats. Come round again and you’ll be missing the time when this was the only pain you felt.” He let the words sink in for a few moments in silence before grabbing the man by the neck and lifting his head up so he was facing V properly. “Before we let you go, I’m gonna need you to apologize. You said some real vile shit to V and that just ain’t gonna fly.”</p><p>Between the impending concussion, potential brain damage, and pain dominating his body, it didn’t surprise her when the man struggled to string the words together. With blood painting his lips red, tinted spittle spattering down his chin, Blaze managed to whisper the three syllables. Only, it was too quiet for Vik’s liking, or maybe the ripperdoc was just trying to hammer home a point. He pushed the Animal to say it louder, again, and again, until he was finally satisfied that enough humiliation was endured. Slapping the man’s back a few times, Vik got to his feet and lifted the man with him. He hadn’t touched the guy’s legs so he was physically able to walk but with the hazy vision and bloodied face, it wasn’t the simplest task anymore.</p><p>“Hey.” V called out as Vik pushed Blaze towards the door. She bent down to pick up the machete, twirling it in her hands a few times as she walked towards them. The comment he made still sat wrong with her, and as much as she liked watching Vik’s show, she was also very capable of handling her own shit. Pressing the rusty point of it to the man’s throat, she looked him dead in the eye. “I’ve got no reservations about ending you. If I see you again outside of this clinic, I’ll gut you. Got it?”</p><p>He studied her, as if trying to discern the truth of her words, but nodded all the same. The two men disappeared into the alleyway after that, leaving V alone in the clinic for the first time ever. She let out a heavy sigh, shoulders shrugging as the adrenaline drained from her body. There were splatters of blood on the ground from the fight, and over near Vik’s desk were three small yellowed teeth. Turning up her nose at the sight, V grabbed a pair of the doc’s gloves and used them to pick up the remnants of the youngest ganger. She carted them over to the biohazard bin and quickly disposed of them, wondering how many times Vik had just such an encounter as the one she’d just witnessed. She set the machete on the table beside her pistol, pausing to pick up the tools Vik left on the operating chair and moving them over to the table as well.</p><p>The ripperdoc was only gone for a minute or two, dropping the Animal in a well-lit spot no doubt so 1) his people could find him easily and 2) the inevitable onlookers knew he wasn’t dead. It worked not only to avoid possible gang feuds, but also as a not-so-subtle reminder not to fuck with him. When the door opened again and the man of the hour swaggered in, V grabbed one of the trophies off his desk and put on a showman’s voice.</p><p>“Ladies and gentlemen, after 3 rounds at the Watson clinic, the judges have declared the winner, by <em>unanimous</em> decision, Viktorrrrrrrrrrr Vektor!” She laughed at herself even as she said it, perfectly imagining Jackie handing off the borrowed trophy to the doc as he walked over to them. They’d share a few beers, or maybe something a little stronger, and crack jokes well into the morning. When she handed the trophy to him he managed a smile, mustering a thank you despite being a little winded. When he looked up at her, she realized that in the moment she’d somehow managed to forget just what had brought her there in the first place.</p><p>It was too easy to lapse into old habits, joking around like they used to. She felt herself pull away as her mind replayed just where they’d left off before the interruption. As she studied him, she noticed that his knuckles were bloodied up something awful. It made her eyes go wide, not because the injury was deadly but because it was on Vik. Seeing him at anything other than 100% was new and uncomfortable.</p><p>“Shit, Vik, your hands.” She exclaimed. He lifted his free hand to survey the damage but seemed entirely unbothered.</p><p>“Just need to clean it up is all.” The ripperdoc said with ease, walking past her to set the hunk of metal back on his desk. He seemed more focused on the blood that had stained his shirt, peeling it off and tossing it onto the vid screen. It had spared his white tank beneath from much of the blood splatter, though not all of it from what she could see. “Sorry about all that, V.”</p><p>“Hey, if I knew I got free ringside tickets I’d come by more often.” She joked, trying desperately to cut the tension. He laughed, albeit quietly, and fidgeted with the trophy on his desk. She tried not to get hung up on what the sight of him in his tank did to her. “It’s nothing, Vik. I’m sorry for you that people in this city are such assholes.”</p><p>He was quiet in response at first, each millisecond without a word from him stretching out to infinity.  She watched as he walked around to his terminal, typing something quickly on the screen. Seconds later her comm buzzed, his message to the clinic subscribers informing her that he was closed for the night. As the notification faded from her processor, she heard him let out a breath. “I think I do need it.” He said at last, turning to face her from across the room. She cocked her head to the side, wondering if she’d missed something.</p><p>“Huh?” She finally said. “Sorry, need what?”</p><p>Vik took purposeful steps over to where she stood near the gate and drew so close it made her breath hitch. He looked down at her lips for half a second too long and then met her eyes. “I need you to spell it out for me, V. First time, last time.”</p><p>Her cheeks flushed deeply at the request, the bundle of nerves from earlier returning in full force. She swallowed hard, not even knowing where to begin—<em>how </em>to begin. What did she say and what did she leave out? If she overshared would it scare him off? If she didn’t say enough would it make him pull away?</p><p>“I…” She felt like she was stumbling on her own tongue, crossing both arms under her chest to have some semblance of steadiness. He stood before her patiently, waiting for her to find what it was she wanted to say. He twirled the thumb ring on his finger in slow revolutions, stopping only when she was able to meet his eyes. “I’ve got feelings for you, Vik. Big time. And it isn’t cause I’m sad, or cause you’re my friend, or cause I don’t have  options. There…there hasn’t <em>been </em>any other option for me, alright? It’s just you. Don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to corner you into anything, I just—”</p><p>He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, cutting her off with a kiss. Her hands balled into fists at the suddenness, but she met his lips with eagerness all the same. He pulled away just enough so he could speak, lips still brushing hers as he found the words.</p><p>“<em>I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you</em>.” He murmured in a low voice, settling his big hands on her hips. Kissing her briefly, V’s head was dizzy with his words. “<em>And I’ve loved you a lot longer than I should admit</em>.”</p><p>Her eyes went wide at that, staring up at him even as he kissed her again. Did she hear him right? Was her mind playing tricks on her? Or worse, was this some horrible glitch from the relic in her head? She didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know how to even begin processing it. When he broke away from her lips and met her eyes, he seemed unfazed by her look of disbelief. Tilting her chin up with his forefinger and thumb, he studied her for a moment too long before speaking.</p><p>“Say you’ll be mine, V.” He asked of her seriously, lacking any teasing or innuendo. “Only mine.”</p><p>“Already am, Vik.” She replied in a small voice, hands tentatively settling on his stomach. “I’m yours. Yours alone.”</p><p>It was the only thing left he needed to hear. He kissed her hard at that, pulling her flat against him as he sighed wistfully. Her hands bunched into the ribbed fabric of his tank, tugging to pull it free from the hem of his pants. He moved back to let her peel it up and over his head, tossing the fabric onto the ground. He guided her backwards until her back met the metal grate, its hinges creaking at the impact.</p><p>“Stay put.” There he went again, ordering her without it sounding like an order. She was more than happy to obey, cheeks flushed as he walked off towards his makeshift gym space. V had trouble accepting that this was in fact her reality, but if it was a dream she didn’t want to wake up. She’d see it through and choose this unconscious unending euphoria over whatever the fuck was waiting for her.</p><p>When Vik came back it was with one of his skipping ropes, the old handles made of genuine wood. Setting his sunglasses on the nearest table, he reached above her, looping the rope through and between the flat bars of the gate. He guided her hands up and wrapped them around the handles, securing her grip with some of the slack. It was less like bondage and more like support, the reason behind it becoming apparent only as he sank to his knees before her.</p><p>V watched as the ripperdoc took off her shoes, setting them to the side, and then pushed up the edge of her dress so it bunched up at her waist. Slipping his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he peeled them down and lifted her feet one at a time so she could step out of them. Moving closer to her, he lifted her right leg and bent it, pressing his lips in a line of kisses that started at her knee and trailed all the way up to her inner thigh. He focused his attention there for painfully long, winding the anticipation tight in her core.</p><p>When he was content with his work, he hooked her knee over his shoulder. Using his fingers to spread her open, V watched as the ripperdoc ran his tongue up her slit. She took a deep breath in at the feeling, grip tightening on the jump rope handles. He repeated the gesture a few times before focusing his attention on her clit. The warmth and wetness of his tongue was sweeter than anything she’d felt, a quiet whimper escaping her throat. He licked and sucked at her with such force that she could have sworn there were two of him, her hips instinctively bucking towards him against her will. He reached out his arm and pressed it down across her abdomen to keep her flat against the grate.</p><p>V let her head fall back against the metal, pursing her lips hard to keep from being too loud. His tongue worked in circles, then lines, and at one point what even felt like letters. If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he spelled out his name on her skin. It was one thing to be wanted; sexual attraction was relatively easy and not the toughest thing to come by in the world. But to be claimed? To be spoken for so firmly? It nearly pushed her over the edge then and there.</p><p>“S-shit, Vik.” She stammered out, the immobilization of her hips somehow making her feel things even deeper. He moved his tongue faster against her, taking note of what patterns wound her up more than others and committing to them. When she felt herself tightening up he pulled away, leaving her to whine at the absence. He took a moment to catch his breath, kissing at her inner thigh again and pressing his teeth to the sensitive skin there.</p><p>He dipped down to her entrance, flicking his tongue around it a few times before pushing in. He licked at her walls, his noise of satisfaction reverberating against her skin. He replaced his tongue with his middle and ring fingers, pushing them as far as they would go. She cried out at that, pulling at the skipping rope that was helping to hold her up. Her chest was rising and falling fast now, trying to keep up with the way he worked her over. When his tongue returned to her clit, that sweet sensation of pressure and warmth, she felt the leg still planted on the ground start to wobble.</p><p>Despite all the work he was doing, the ripperdoc noticed it too. He lifted his tattooed arm off her abdomen just long enough to lift her other leg over his shoulder, supporting her in full now. His fingers moved quickly now, and despite her best efforts she couldn’t contain all the noises as much as she hoped. It served as fuel for him, pushing him onwards as he brought her to the precipice of her climax.</p><p>V’s legs tightened on his shoulders as she felt her body seize up with pleasure. The ripperdoc held her down against the grate, fingers and tongue maintaining their pace and pressure as her whole body shook. Only when she was literally gasping, hands pulling so hard at the jump rope that it hurt her palms, did her body finally go slack. Vik stopped then, slowly easing his fingers out of her, hot breath rolling against her skin. She could feel his eyes on her but was too dizzy to tell up from down.</p><p>After supporting her for a few minutes while she recovered, Vik carefully lifted one of her legs at a time and set them down, making sure she could handle her own bodyweight before getting to his feet. He wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her steady as he unwrapped her hands from the rope. She slumped forward against him, hands bracing his shoulders, and let her head fall against his forehead. He kissed her gently, never too long at a time, and slipped both of his hands under her thighs.</p><p>Vik lifted her up with ease, making sure she was holding onto him before prying her off of the gate. She could feel the marks that the metal had pressed into her skin and wondered how badly she’d bruise. With strong steps, the ripperdoc carried her over to the operating chair and set her down on the edge. He leaned over her, pressing his lips to her neck, and held his hands on the material bunched at her waist.</p><p>“Would love to see this dress on the ground.” He murmured into her ear, refusing to move any further until she spoke.</p><p>“The hell you waiting for, then?” V challenged, still a little breathless. He wasted no time after that, lifting it up further and pulling it over her head. Her arms slid out of it in unison, leaving her fully bare before him. He looked at her like he’d never seen her that way before, drinking in the sight of her so long she was on the verge of self-consciousness.</p><p>With a well-placed kick to the base of the chair, the bottom half bounced up to provide a flat surface—save for the slight incline of the back cushion. Vik kicked off his shoes, eyes trained on her as he roughly undid his belt buckle. V watched with hungry eyes as his cock bounced free from the confines of his pants, the fabric carelessly crumpled onto the ground. The ripperdoc crawled on top of her, the chair creaking under their weight until he was situated above her.</p><p>He used his knees to nudge her legs apart, tattooed arm pressing against the side of her neck as he held himself up. His left hand went between them, guiding the length of him to her entrance and pushing in with one swift movement. V exhaled sharply at the feeling, but what caused her nerve endings to tingle was the pure groan of satisfaction he released. He stayed perfectly still inside her, savouring the feeling, and leaned down to kiss her.</p><p>“Don’t think—I mentioned,” she said between kisses, watching as his eyes focused on her. She sat up on her elbows, nose rubbing against his as she chased after his lips. “what it did—to me—seeing you drop those guys.”</p><p>He laughed darkly against her lips, easing out of her and surging forward so roughly she fell back against the cushion. Vik sat back, pushing the overhead lamps out of the way, and covering their bodies with the neon red glow of the fluorescents on the ceiling. Placing her feet on the edges of the chair, Vik pulled her hips flush against him. His hands roamed over her body, stroking and squeezing and weaving wonderlands in their wake, as he slowly built a rhythm.</p><p>When his hands finally settled on her waist, she let hers slide up his arms, thumb pressing against the vein on his left arm. There was something immensely satisfying about just how little of his arms her hands fit around. It wasn’t just remnant strength from his boxing days or muscle he kept around to keep gangoons at bay. Here, they had a pure purpose, holding her in place as he pumped into her.</p><p>The ripperdoc grunted as he stretched her, the length of him catching on all the sensitive parts of her walls with every move he made. His tongue darted across his bottom lip as he watched her body bounce on the operating chair, all of it, all of her, for him. He watched her body react to his but fixated on the sight of her clenched jaw and shallow breath.</p><p>“No need—to keep quiet.” He told her, a request wrapped up in an offer. He had closed the clinic officially, after all. Better than that, even if someone did come ‘round, he didn’t care if they heard. No secret lovers, no hidden encounter.</p><p>“Give me—mm—a reason—to be loud.” She challenged, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. He laughed at that but seemed more than willing to abide. Vik leaned forward and grabbed hold of the chair’s headrest, meeting her eye as if to gauge if she was ready. She slid her hands up into his hair, lightly dragging her nails over his scalp, offering the smallest of nods as an invitation for him to continue.</p><p>He surged forward into her and, even though she had just told him too, his movements caught her off guard. Vik’s pace was furious and immediate, the ripperdoc holding nothing back as he worked to make her eat her words. She cursed under her breath at the sensation of him inside her, muscles tensing around him. It wasn’t enough, though; he wanted to hear her. He dipped his head down to kiss her neck, drawing close to her ear as he spoke.</p><p>“Know you can do better than that, V.” He said in a low voice, making her shiver. The ripperdoc may have guessed—correctly so—that she was purposefully holding back. She may have been doing so partially out of pride, and partially to see what he would do if she didn’t listen. It wasn’t long that she got her answer, watching as Vik lifted his left hand off the chair. The red light glimmered off his thumb ring as he licked the digit, reaching down between them and finding her clit with ease. It only took a few seconds of him touching her for the resolve to fizzle right out of her.</p><p>“<em>F-f-fuck</em>.” She moaned, head falling back against the headrest. Knowing that he had her on the right track, Vik rammed into her deeper while massaging her clit. The chair was shifting so much from his movements that she could hear the metal base scraping on the tile below, the whole structure threatening to cave from the frantic friction.</p><p>“<em>There</em> we go.” He growled between breaths, drinking up the moans tumbling out of her. V felt her entire body catch fire, lungs desperate to take the oxygen needed to stay conscious. Everything at once was making her feel fuzzy, the sounds of his pleasure only adding to hers.</p><p>“Dammit, Vik. D-don’t stop.” She pleaded, fingers scraping at his back in an attempt to hold on. He obliged her request, though the look on his face indicated just how hard he was working to hold off. “Just like that. Just like that.”</p><p>When her back started to arch up, pressing her even closer to him, she knew she was almost there. V needed him, all of him, and wrapped her legs around his hips to keep him close. She locked her ankles in a silent request and he was more than happy to acquiesce. He swallowed his name as it tumbled from her mouth, every nerve ending lighting up at once in her body. The constant creaking of the chair smothered out as Vik’s hips snapped into hers the final few times, filling her in stammering spurts. His hand dug into the headrest behind her, the vinyl coating cracking and breaking from the strength of his grip.</p><p>The two of them were practically wheezing as they looked at one another, heads spinning at the pleasure emanating through their bodies. V’s arms fell limp onto the chair cushion, legs falling away from his hips. Vik slid his hand out from between them, bringing it up to the headrest to keep himself from crashing down onto her.</p><p>When V had the tiniest bit of strength, she lifted herself up to kiss him; a weak but genuine gesture all the same. He made no complaints, meeting her willfully and sincerely.</p><p>Vik very carefully eased himself out of her, the aftermath of their encounter trailing down her thighs. There’d be time for showers later; in the moment she just needed to recover. Vik was clearly more used to pushing on while winded than she was, his previous career giving him the energy to crawl off the chair and stand with relative steadiness while she could barely lift her arms. He knew this, and worked to make up for the difference.</p><p>Grabbing hold of her hands, he gently lifted her up to a sitting position. Turning her legs till they were hanging over the edge of the chair, he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her towards him. She got the picture and tried to be less useless, wrapping her legs around hips and an arm around his neck. Pressing her body against his chest, the ripperdoc hooked his tattooed arm around her lower back and lifted her with ease, carrying her to the left of the chair and through to the back section of his clinic. Around a makeshift wall made from the original building’s security gate, Vik carried her over to the couch. Sinking down into the fabric, he turned so he could lay down properly; all the while keeping her glued to him.</p><p>V stretched out her legs, their limbs getting tangled up together, and scooted down just enough so she could lay her head on his chest. She looked out at the harsh red lights of the cargo hold, scanning the various car parts that she was pretty sure the ripperdoc used to keep his ride in tip-top shape. He had several monitors set up in the other corner of the room in amongst his tools, the myriad of text on them making her eyes go blurry trying to read them from a distance.</p><p>It still felt like too much of a dream to be real life, but V tried to get her mind to accept the possibility that everything that had happened, everything they’d said, wasn’t just in her head. She’d said her piece and he hadn’t run away. He hadn’t used her and kicked her out. Vik’s hand drew infinity loops on her back, goosebumps rising to meet him with every touch. She could have stayed that way with him for eternity.</p><p>As she ran-over everything she admitted, everything he’d confessed to, she realized that there was still one thing she was missing. Propping herself up on his chest, his attention snapped to her. Chewing at her lip, a tiny voice in her head was screaming that she’d be asking too much.</p><p>“I think I need to hear it too, Vik.” She parroted his words back to him, searching his eyes for any indication that she was wrong in having asked. “First time, last time.”</p><p>He studied her, clearly taking her request seriously as he mapped out what he wanted to respond with. After a few moments, the ripperdoc reached behind his neck and lifted the gold chain up and over his head. He reached forward and carefully slipped it over hers, flipping her hair out from under the chain and letting the pendant fall against her skin. She watched him carefully, but allowed him to tilt her chin up to face him.</p><p>“I’m yours, V.” He looked her dead in the eye as he said it, the weight of his words hitting harder than any bullet she’d ever taken. “I’ll say it as much as you want ‘till I finally kick the bucket.”</p><p>“Vik—” She began, more than a little overwhelmed at just how perfectly things were falling into place. He lifted golden gloves so she could see them, shaking them twice.</p><p>“When I can’t say it, this says it for me. I’m yours. Only yours.”</p><p>His voice was too serious, eyes too sincere, and she still hadn’t fully recovered from the way his body made her feel. All she could do was kiss him, deeply, tenderly, and settle back down onto him. If she died tomorrow, at least she had made it this far. At least she had gotten this one, shining moment out of her life to call her own.</p><p>Vik wrapped both of his arms around her, hands settling on the small of her back, and V drifted off to sleep with the knowledge that he’d be there. When she woke, when she needed him, and even when she didn’t. She may have been lonely, but she wasn’t alone. Her ripperdoc was and would be there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Knockout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V stood outside the colossal remnants of the Grand Imperial Mall, trying to imagine what the world looked like when the GIM was functional. Did groups of teenagers loiter out front like they did at buck-a-slice machines? Were any of the stores actually profitable enough to survive longer than a month? And who in their right mind picked the long-dead colour palette? V wasn’t really one to talk about being dead. She technically was, and had been, twice now. Some days she still had a hard time believing that everything was over now, that the Relic was no longer killing her and Johnny was free. Most times she woke up, a bout of apprehension took over her brain—like breaking free of the Relic’s hold was all a hazy dream and she’d find herself once more on the brink of death.  </p><p>But then the sleep would leave her system, and the subtle weight of the metal boxing gloves around her neck reminded her otherwise. She’d beat Arasaka. She’d saved Johnny. And with a whole lot of help from her friends, she’d saved herself too. She wouldn’t be delegated to memories in the minds of the ones she loved. She wouldn’t yet fade away like the mall in front of her, with half its letters missing in the giant neon sign and a parking lot of car corpses as a welcome mat.  </p><p>When Coach Fred first told V about the underground fight ring, she didn’t think it was for her. Not just because of her questionable skill level, but also because she really doubted getting hit repeatedly in the head was any good for the Relic and her decaying neural network. Now that things were fixed, though, she was free to try. And she’d be lying if she said Vik didn’t influence her decision. The first fight was more for fun than anything—just seeing what everything was about, get a feel for this previously unknown part of Night City’s smaller networks.  </p><p>What she hadn’t expected was to actually make it to the final fight. Fred definitely caught V off-guard with having her fight twins (not twins?) in her first fight, but once she was able to isolate them she made quick work of it. Buck was more the type of fight she expected, a hard-hitter with razor sharp accuracy. V <em>may</em> have hit him a little harder than necessary after he tapped out for being such a dick to her. With Caesar, though, it was the opposite. It was a fight, pure and simple, and she liked the guy so much she didn’t even bother taking her winnings. Not with his very pregnant girl and the price tag on parenthood. It wasn’t until V’s fight with Caesar that Vik had even heard about her foray into the world of underground fist fighting. He’d heard from an old training buddy of his about a rookie who was making waves in the proverbial rings, and when he asked her about it she didn’t get the hype. So far as she knew, it was nothing more than some small-time smackdowns and another excuse for people to place bets on something.  </p><p>Fighting Rhino, though, was a wakeup call. It made sense that one of the fighters would be an Animal gangoon, and V suddenly became very sympathetic to Vik’s adamant belief that implanted fighters were cheating on some level. He’d insisted on training her before the fight in Rancho Coronado, and she suddenly felt like she was getting into something much bigger than she’d planned. They had spent most nights at his clinic after hours, making use of his stockpiled equipment to hone her muscles for what the fight would require. Half those nights ended up with them using the clinic for <em>other</em> purposes, but at the very least she got in some cardio that way. </p><p>V was grateful for the training once she’d gotten into the ring—which was truly more of a pit than anything—with Rhino. She was the largest woman the merc had ever seen, but also oddly pleasant for a competitor. She didn’t care for money or bets, only fought for the thrill of the fight. Rhino was the most difficult fight by far, but while on her last leg V managed to get the upper hand and knock the Animal down for the count. It was the first fight Vik was ring-side for, and having someone there to cheer her on made her understand the allure of stadium-level fighting. Though, in the deeper parts of herself, V knew that cheers or even her name coming out of anyone other than Vik couldn’t possibly make her feel the same. </p><p>Now, as V walked up to the GIM’s front entrance, she wondered how this final fight would go. She had no doubt gotten by on some level of luck, and even less skill, but her plan was to take any winnings and use them to get reservations at The Amber Fox. Neither of them exactly had big corpo appetites, but V also just really loved the idea of them going to a place, just for one night, that didn’t have that rustic, blood-covered charm of Watson or Heywood. The flickering neon overhead lights brought the dust-covered old adverts in and out of focus as she approached the doors, the promotional attempts abandoned in the district ever since the Voodoo Boyz took a whole new kind of control. Between their self-policing and the creation of their own Net, they were fast approaching a level of self-sufficiency that the rest of Night City couldn’t dream of. </p><p>“They are waiting for you over there.” A woman said as she approached. The emblem burnished onto the arm of her leather jacket spelled out her affiliation in no uncertain terms: VDBZ. “There, other side of the roo. <em>Yap tann nou</em>.” </p><p>V nodded and thanked her before pushing on. Through the open doors, V walked along the checkered pathway until she was in the mall proper, surrounded by six storeys of empty storefronts. Abandoned scaffolding and other construction equipment littered the place along with disposed traces of corpo funding, Pacifica’s determined stance pushing major players out of the district without any room for negotiations. V walked around the dried-up fountain, a trio of golden dolphins emerging majestically from the would-be water feature. They gleamed in the manufactured light, rust and damage buffed out at a distance but visible as she drew close. The massive glass panels on the roof showed the overcast night sky, any stars long since snuffed out by the suffocating lights of the city.  </p><p>Between the murmur of voices and the strategically placed spotlights, V followed the trail to the open area that would be used for the final showdown. Garbage bags littered the corners and benches, their stench oddly absent as she passed the one-time locations of Softsys, Kabyan Foods, and Brooklyn Barista. In the years since the mall closed down, half of the stores had since disappeared entirely from the market, unable to keep up with the rapidly changing technosphere.  </p><p>One such company was the one housing the event of the evening: Triple Extreme Epic Workout Centre. An old gym that would serve as the perfect, pseudo-professional location for the fight. As soon as V entered, she was hit with a wave of doubt. This wasn’t some back-alley meet up with a stranger off Fred’s phone, this was...well, an actual <em>event</em>. A real ring, a ton of overhead lighting, background music, and—perhaps the biggest change of all—a whole whack of people. It was nothing like the crowd at a real televised event, but she had no idea why all of a sudden this many people care about a little fist fight. </p><p>Coach Fred was the first familiar face that V saw, and when their eyes met he waved her over with a smile.  V’s eyes scanned the crowd upon her approach, stomach settling slightly at the sight of Vik off to the left of the ring. He was talking with a group of men, one of whom she recognized from the posters in his clinic. Old boxing buddies, no doubt. He gave her a smile and she felt some of the tenseness leave her body, knowing that things couldn’t be that bad if he was there with her.</p><p>“Aha! The star of the hour!” Fred announced as she made it over to him. “Great to see you, V.”</p><p>“You too, Fred.” V shook his outstretched hand, looking around the big space as she did. “So…what now?”</p><p>“What now, she says—hah! The <em>title </em>match!” Fred exclaimed, opening his arms wide to motion around them. “You’re goin’ up against Razor Hugh. Heard of him, haven’t you?”</p><p>“I think I’ve seen posters…” V knew the name but couldn’t put a face to it. The fact that she even vaguely recollected the name was concerning, because up until then she’d been fighting small-time people infamous in their burrows alone. “He’s…what, a pro boxer right?”</p><p>“He is <em>the</em> boxer—you had your head buried in the sand?” Fred raised an eyebrow at the nonchalance of her response. As he continued, she tried to work out how best to say ‘<em>why the hell am I going up a real boxer, Fred?</em>  “Never thought I’d see him here because…you know, he’s a star athlete with elite corpo sponsors…But then his agent tells us it’s a good PR move for him. Razor ‘returning to his roots’ and all that, prove he’s still a kid from the streets.”</p><p>“Well fuck, Fred, do I even have a shot?” She asked quietly, wondering if backing out was even an option. Not that she wanted to run from a literal fight, but what was the point in getting bent up or worse for a few thousand eddies?</p><p>“Hah, a good question. You’re good V, very good, but this guy…he’s a machine.” Fred explained, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Carbon fiber, titanium bones, hydraulic joints…all optimized by Night City’s best bioengineers. I dunno. Maybe Viktor’ll have some tips or tricks…But I’ll be honest, it don’t look too good for you. But uh, maybe that’s better you know?”</p><p>“Uh, better in what possible way?” she asked incredulously, arms crossing over her chest. Fred looked around at the nearby people before motioning for her to follow him. The coach led her to a somewhat secluded part of the gym before explaining what he meant.</p><p>Well, V, I’ll get right to it…I know sports oughtta be fair, but life sure ain’t. I’m not wrong, am I? Razor’s manager wants his star to shine. He wants the whole city to hear about the hurt he put on this ring. My point…pull some punches, forget to put up that guard sometimes…Then get comfortable on the ground.” Fred said the last part quietly, almost sheepishly, and V’s brow furrowed at the implication.</p><p>“You want me to roll over?” She asked in hushed tones, unable to believe she was reading him right. “What the fuck, Fred. You get me to run all around NC beatin’ on people just to---what, make it to the final fight and get you a payout?”</p><p>“Hey, I had <em>no </em>idea they were gonna tap in a souped-up pro fighter for the main bout, okay?” He said in his defense. “Not like I didn’t want you winning this whole thing, but facts are facts V. I don’t want you getting pulverized out there just ‘cause you’re feelin’ like putting on a show, read me? Just giving you an out, friend. Think about it.”</p><p>V shook her head at his words, eyes rolling back as she turned away from him entirely. Somewhere in her brain she knew what he was saying made sense, even appreciated that he was at least cutting her in on whatever deal Hugh’s manager proposed, but it just made her angrier than anything. That Heywood pride was chewing her up inside, demanding that she fight now more than ever after an offer like that. As she returned to the throng of people she was happy to see some friendly faces—Rhino, Caesar, and the twins had shown up to watch the final showdown. V made her rounds, enjoying brief exchanges with them all, until she finally lay eyes on her opponent himself.</p><p>He was…<em>huge</em>. Bigger than any Animal she’d seen—even with Rhino in the room. He was glowing from head to toe with cyber implants, chrome peaking out of every last seam on his body. He had wild eyes and massive fists, a single one of them probably larger than her entire head. <em>That</em> was who she was supposed to fight? Not just fight, but <em>beat</em>? She moved past his little set up, complete with several men talking away on their holos around him, and headed in Vik’s direction. He saw her approach and bid his friends farewell, meeting her in the middle with a smile and laying a hand on the small of her back.</p><p>“V, hey.” His voice was the warmth and familiarity she needed. Sometimes it scared her, just how much she seemed to rely on him. “How’re your spirits before the big fight?”</p><p>“Honestly? Startin’ to feel a little sick.” She cast a look back at Hugh, shaking her head at the sight of him. “Vik, what the fuck am I doin’ here? I’m a brawler, not a boxer. I’m about to get the beatdown of my <em>life</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s a tough matchup.” Viktor said cautiously, rubbing his hands up her arms a few times. It refocused her attention on him, and she tried to dig down and find some of her usual confidence, bravado even. “But y’know, no one’s unbeatable. Even him. The guy’s a tank. Seriously. Nanofiber RealSkinn, shock absorbers…You could knock him on the head with a meat mallet and he wouldn’t even flinch.”</p><p>“Appreciate the pep talk, Vik.” She said through a laugh, willing to find light in any part of the situation that she could.</p><p>“Hold on now, I’m not done.” The ripperdoc said seriously, dropping his voice and leaning in to speak right in her ear. “He’s got a weakness. Had some abdominal muscles swapped out a week ago and they haven’t taken to him fully just yet. You hit him there, it’s gonna hurt. A <em>lot</em>.”</p><p>“Okay…abs, got it.” She nodded, cracking her knuckles and trying to get in the necessary headspace for what was to come. “Any other tips? Y’know, to not get totally annihilated?”</p><p>“Hey, he may have brute strength but I’ve seen you fight, V. You’re fast, move as quick as a Sandevistan. So keep out of his reach when you can, and swoop in with a strong hit when he’s open.” He made sure she heard him, really took in his words, before releasing her from his grasp.</p><p>“Ladies and Gentlemen! Night Citizens!” Coach Fred’s voice rang out behind them, calling everyone’s attention. “It’s time for our heavyweight bout! Facing each other tonight, we have… Razor Hugh and V! Let’s hear it! Go on, to your corners, fighters.”</p><p>Viktor moved up the stairs with her into the ring, kneeling down in front of her as she sat on her stool.  She peeled off her overshirt, adjusting the straps on her sports bra, and fixed the hem of her shorts. He took two lengths of fabric from his back pocket, wrapping her hands up one at a time to try and protect the skin beneath.</p><p>“Well, good thing I’ve got a ripper in my corner.” V joked, half truths lingering close in her words, but took solace at the smile it made Vik sport. “Y’know, Fred wants me to throw the fight.”</p><p>The words made his head snap up, eyes meeting hers with a look of disbelief.</p><p>“Throw the fight?” He asked in all but a whisper, as if it was a codeword that could get them killed off just for mentioning. “That’s bush leagues, V. Bush leagues. You’re gonna get in there and take this asshole down a few pegs, hear me?”</p><p>“Vik…” She laughed, half-defeated already. He nudged her chin with his thumb, shaking his head at her.</p><p>“You got this, V. Go in there, and win this alright?” The ripperdoc leaned forward and kissed her, the same fizzy sensation washing over her body that did the first time they’d kissed, half drunk on lust in her apartment. “For me.”</p><p>“Shit, now I <em>really</em> can’t lose.” She teased, going in for one more peck before taking a deep breath to psych herself up. It was a stupid, weak thought, but knowing there were people there from Vik’s past and he openly kissed her without a sliver of hesitation…well, it certainly made her attention just a little divided. But maybe their exchange was what she needed to get that fire back in her belly. While the potential winnings weren’t nearly as important to her now as achieving the almost-impossible task of beating her opponent, there were other factors that urged her forward. Not wanting to embarrass Vik in front of his boxing pals, not wanting to lose to a corpo, and perhaps most of all not wanting to let down her ripper. Pride counted for a little bit too, having racked up a winning streak that would look mighty fine with one final checkmark on it.</p><p>Looking across the ring at her opponent, she tried to ignore the taunts he yelled at her. Just trying to get in her head, that’s what Vik said. Instead, V focused on her ripper. The half-hidden smile on his face when he looked at her, the way his hands felt when they held hers, and the knowledge that he’d still be there for her when this was over with, no matter the outcome. He’d proven that when she was incrementally being killed by the Relic and he stood by her anyways, unafraid to get attached even in the face of likely losing her. That meant something and it meant a lot.</p><p>When it was time for the fight to begin, Vik stepped down to the ground, arms bracing the edge of the ring. Hugh’s corner was empty, his support staff consisting entirely of his corpo managers and sponsors. Wrapping her fingers around the metal boxing gloves ‘round her neck, V used the brief moment’s reprieve to centre herself before tucking the necklace under her sports bra. V got to her feet and Razor followed suit, smashing his fists together a few times and staring her down hard.</p><p>It may have been stupid, especially standing before someone as altered as him, but V had never been one to fill up on cyberware. Beyond the somewhat standard shard ports and jacks for basic netrunning, the most extensive procedure she’d ever gotten was the kiroshi before the job at Konpeki Plaza. Hell, maybe it was just how bad everything ended up after that mission that really put her off implants. But after she was taken off death’s doorstep and started actually putting effort into Fred’s fights, it was a conscious choice she made not to get herself chromed up. Vik’s comments about fighters these days and how nothing felt like a real fight anymore <em>may</em> have had an impact on her too.</p><p>If she’d had any idea her opponent was going to be a real fighter, she definitely would have done her homework. V was sure that Vik could pull up vids of Razor’s best fights to analyze, show her his habits and where she could zero in on. Now, she would have to rely on trial and error; the difficulty being any error on her part could result in getting knocked out—or worse. Instead, she’d have to really capitalize on her dodging, keep an arm’s reach away but move fast enough to cut in with a jab. All while not getting pummeled.</p><p>The bell rang out, echoing through the space, and signalled the beginning of the fight. V had no time to evaluate her stance, her plan, her <em>anything</em>, because before the last echoes of the bell fizzled out Razor Hugh charged at her with full speed. His massive form barrelled at her from across the ring, teeth bared and fists clenched. It would have been a frightening scene even outside of the current context, but knowing the death machine was locked in on her nearly froze her then and there. But her survival instinct, that persistent voice that forced her out of countless situations, acted before her brain could. V jumped out of the way at the last second, leaving Razor to crash into the stretchy barriers behind her. Hard to stop a force like that once it gets going; bull in a china shop, she could work with that.</p><p>He turned to face her slowly, shaking out his arms and rotating his shoulders a few times. V kept light on her feet, moving around on the balls of her feet and edging closer to him, ever keeping her hands up in defense. Hugh lunged at her, a powerful punch that she slipped away from. The momentum of missing contact sent him spinning for a moment, but he corrected himself quickly and came at her again. He didn’t seem to have a dominant hand, willing to throw punches with either one. They played the cat and mouse game, him punching and her dodging, but if things continued the match would simply be determined by who had better stamina.</p><p>Razor seemed to think the same thing, because when she dodged again he came around with a follow-up punch, the suddenness of it almost catching her. It was jarring, throwing herself one way and then another to evade him, but no doubt that was his goal; tire her out and do it fast. One round, that’s what he’d told her. It’d all be over in one round. The defiant part of her was determined not to let that happen, not after he’d been such a dick about things.</p><p>When she dodged his hit once, then twice, she used the dead space between his breaths to risk a jab of her own. Her arm sliced through the opening of air and landed hard against his abs. The implant below his skin thudded against her fist but the impact of it—and presumably, the pain that followed—sent him stumbling backwards. V was more than a little shocked that she landed the hit and that it hurt him as much as it seemed too; if there was equal pain coming for her fists she had yet to feel it. Maybe the adrenaline would keep her from feeling anything till after the fight.</p><p>Razor growled, his face contorting at the fact that she’d hit him, and he barrelled forward before she could fully step out of the way. He came at her with a vengeance, throwing punches wildly until he finally made contact. Even with her dodging her caught her face with a hit, the force of it sending her to the floor. The stinging pain that bloomed at her lip and nose let her know that no, adrenaline would <em>not</em> in fact be acting as a sedative today. V winced at the sensation, hand going up to touch the injuries but thinking better of it when her touch alone made it worse. It was only after she saw the blood dribble down onto the blue mat below her that she became conscious of Fred’s counting. He was up to four by the time she managed to get herself up, her knockout put off at least for now.</p><p>As V steadied herself she noticed the smug grin on her opponent’s face, the same look she’d seen on the face of a dozen guys just like him when she was growing up. It made her angry. It made her determined. She drew closer to him, not bothering with throwing punches anywhere on his body knowing it’d do no good (except get her hand mangled up). Instead she kept up her dodging and waited for an opening. He may have been a professional, corpo-sponsored boxer, but she was still a streetkid from Heywood. Being able to outrun cops and gangoons alike was a prerequisite for making it to adulthood, so she would take her chances with her own resilience.</p><p>But he was a professional for a reason. When she saw an opening she took it, not taking the time to evaluate if it was a genuine chance for a punch or instead just a trap. She barely made contact with his stomach when she felt a firm uppercut against her jaw. It hit her so hard she flew up before slamming onto the ground, her vision going blurry from the sheer impact of it. V rolled over onto her stomach, blood spilling out of her with more intensity now, and waited for the room to stop spinning. She could hear Fred count towards the finish line behind her, but it was just background noise to the sound of Razor’s laughter. He was already celebrating, claiming a victory that he was 6…5…4 seconds away from.</p><p>V’s whole head ached, but as she pushed up onto her hands and knees she caught sight of her ripperdoc across the ring. His knuckles were practically white, wrapped tightly around the elastic barrier of the ring. The sight of him alone filled her in equal parts with warmth and a sudden second wind. If she landed a punch once, she could do it again. V managed to get to her feet as Fred closed in on <em>9</em>, a mild look of annoyance flickering onto Razor’s face at her defiance. V could take a punch. V could take a beating. She’d done all this before and worse, in situations a lot shittier than a paid boxing match. V spit the blood from her mouth and walked to the middle of the ring, each step sturdier than the last, until she was ready to face her opponent. Bringing both hands up in defense, she bounced back and forth from one foot to the other in anticipation.</p><p>Razor rolled his eyes, turning away from her to throw a glance at his managers. V knew what she’d been told—block, dodge, evade, wait until he comes to you. But that was what he was expecting now, that much was clear. So she took a deep breath in and kicked off, running towards him at full speed. Her sudden movement brought his eyes back to her, a punch winding back for her out of reflex, but she dodged it with ease. Throwing all her weight behind her own jab, V smashed her fist into the middle of his abs with an audible crunch. As his body rocked from the force, she took advantage of the brief hesitation on his part and followed up with another hit, and another, and another, each one hitting harder than the last.</p><p>As he stumbled back, losing his foot, she landed one last hit for good measure and stood back to watch him fall. V forced herself to stay up straight, hands in defensive position, as Razor coughed up enough blood to make her hopeful. He rolled from side to side as Fred counted, edging closer and closer to the magic number. V watched as the pro boxer tried to get up, but the pain from his abdomen flattened him out again.</p><p>“Call it now! This fight’s over!” Fred exclaimed, half the crowd immediately cheering at the results. There were audible boos, as well, but all V cared about was the fight being finished. V bent over, bracing her hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath as drops of blood fell from her nose. “Victory and the prize belong to V, your champion!”</p><p>“You think this’s how it ends?” Razor spat through his bloodied mouth, glaring at V when she met his eye. “Th-that I just let you outta my grip?”</p><p>“You’d be wise to, don’t think you could take another beating.” She grinned, teeth a red mess, and straightened up.</p><p>“This ain’t over ‘tween us. We’ll meet again.” He promised, struggling to sit up even a fraction. “Tomorrow, next year…this definitely ain’t the last.”</p><p>“See ya around then.” V shrugged, the thrill of her victory finally beginning to register in her mind. “Suggest you train in the mean time.”</p><p>It was a low blow, for sure, and almost out of place considering how badly she’d have lost had he not just had recent implants, but <em>fuck</em> it felt good. A sudden movement from the corner of her eye made her turn to see Vik climb into the ring. He reached her in a few strides, grabbing her wrist and holding it up to an encore of cheers. She laughed at the gesture, lungs still heaving, but was cut off as he pulled her into a crimson-coloured kiss. V mused at the gesture, her throbbing hands laying against his chest as the taste of copper filled up her mouth.</p><p>“That’s my girl.” He mused, a look of pride on his face that made her feel all sorts of ways inside. “Slick work, V.”</p><p>“Had a good coach in my corner.” She replied, reaching up to wipe at the blood she’d gotten on him. Razor finally made it to his feet behind them, limping off towards his managers. Before he even left the ring he was taking calls of his own on his holo, a heated discussion about lost sponsorships sweetening her victory even more.</p><p>Viktor helped V get down out of the ring, taking time to offer brief introductions with his buddies. They congratulated her, each singling out something about her performance they found noteworthy. While it was nice to hear, especially from pro boxers who <em>weren’t</em> sleeping with her (and therefore obligated to be in her corner), her head was spinning too much to fully enjoy the moment. Vik eased her out of the conversation, leading her off to a corner of the gym and sitting her down on a bench. He turned her sideways so she was straddling the bench before sitting down in front of her.</p><p>He pulled out a few supplies that he’d brought with him, hitting her first with a MaxDoc to stabilize her vitals. She felt the fresh rush of drugs hit her instantly, some of the pain fading away into a blissful numbness. Her hands gripped the edges of the bench, its vinyl-coated cushion long since giving way to the passage of time, and took a deep breath in when the ripperdoc offered her an inhaler. The anaesthetic worked fast, spreading a tingling sensation over the pain points throbbing across her face.</p><p>“Gotta set that nose.” Vik announced, holding her head steady. She nodded, trusting the drugs to keep the majority of the pain at bay. He snapped her nose back into place in one quick gesture, faded signals bouncing somewhere in her brain but falling off. Next he addressed her lip, coating it with an ointment that he pushed in until it was fully absorbed. It’d keep further swelling at bay and help calm down the fire alarm beneath the skin.</p><p>While he searched for something in his bag she took a big drink of water, sighing as the coolness coated her throat and settled in her stomach. Her lungs had finally started to recover from the exertion, the feeling of sweat beaded all over her body now apparent thanks to a slight chill courtesy of the AC vent above them. Vik took some of her water and doused a towel, gently wiping the blood off her face. The towel came away stained with red but she was glad to be rid of the stickiness. The ripperdoc brushed her jaw, nose, and lip with the salve that kept bruising and scars at bay, hopefully keeping her from looking like the walking wounded.</p><p>Taking her hands in his, Vik carefully unravelled the wraps and checked the damage. They were bloodied up, the skin having split in several places across her knuckles, but nothing was broken. He cleaned the wounds and sealed them up to keep away infection, adding the same scarring solution to her knuckles that he used for her face. When he was finally finished he kissed her hands before releasing them, looking up in time to catch the absent smile on her face.</p><p>“Whaddya say we get outta here?” He asked, putting away all his supplies. V stretched her arms backwards and nodded, heaving out a sigh.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>. I need a drink, a shower, and a nap in that order.” V swung her leg over the bench and got to her feet, the buzz from the MaxDoc letting her transition into a good and proper winner’s high. She’d <em>won</em>. Even if she never did another fight, she would go down as the street rat with barely an implant to her name who took down Razor.</p><p>As the ripperdoc led the way towards the exit, V briefly chatted with her previous opponents and accepted their congratulations. Fred stopped by to send her a nice, cushy 4000 eddies, a look of disappointment lurking just below his smile. Vik took her hand and got her through the crowd, the two of them breathing a little easier once they made it out of the workout centre. It was quieter in the dead mall, the fallout of the fight still unfolding behind them.</p><p>Out in the parking lot, V used Arch’s automated systems to send her bike back to her megabuilding’s garage. Vik held the door open of his Villefort Delegate for her, just like he always did, and carefully closed it after her before getting into the driver’s seat. He eased out of the GIM’s decrepit parking lot, avoiding the long-since abandoned cars that had been scrapped piece by piece. The sky outside was completely clear, the brightness of the moon shining down through the haze of lights the city gave off.</p><p>Leaving the Coastview district behind, they got on the inbound bridge into the Glen. V’s old stomping grounds, the place where she’d got her start with Jackie, it was always the same and she took comfort in the fact. Vik took them into the downtown core, wrapping around the R. Night Ring named after the city’s founder, before getting onto the bridge that led them to Watson. Home of Vik’s clinic, the place they’d first met, and the place they’d finally cemented what they’d both been feeling for ages.</p><p>Watson was a big deal in Night City after the 4<sup>th</sup> Corpo War. Companies were building up the district like nobody’s business, funneling cash into the northern part of Night City and setting down roots. It led to the boom of industry in the north side and housing in the centre, with initial plans anticipating it to become an extension of Corpo Plaza. Everything came to a grinding halt after the Unification War ended and Arasaka came back to NC. They systematically wiped out every last major competitor in order to set up their own factories, killing off the district in the process. It left some nice areas, sure, but more than anything it turned vast swaths of the district into slums.</p><p>The ripperdoc turned left on Palm View off the bridge, skirting the southern limits of Little China as they headed toward the coast. He took a right on Clarendon, following the side street around to the end where his building was. Almost all newer buildings in Watson were pushing 30 storeys or had been amalgamated into megabuildings and co-complexes. Vik had gotten in while the getting was good, his building a low-rise, 6 storey gem built atop the Kashuu Hanten restaurant.  From his penthouse suite at the very top floor, you were just high enough to see over the highway’s walls and between the NCart rail supports through to the water. With no other high-rises in between, it made for a hell of a view.</p><p>As Vik eased into his designated parking spot, V went to open her door but had to keep it shut at the last moment when another car zoomed in beside them. She exchanged a look with Vik, the tinted windows of the other car preventing her from catching sight of who was inside. After a few moments it was clear they weren’t exiting their vehicle first, so she let herself out and met Vik at the end of the car before heading towards the building’s doors. There was a peace she felt, being at the ripperdoc’s place. Maybe it was the absence of 40 floors above her, or no atrium outside the doors full of people at all hours, but she felt like she could actually breathe. It just as easily could’ve been Vik’s presence, though—he really did have that effect on her.</p><p>“Hey!” A man called out behind them, drawing their attention as the building doors opened. He was a corpo, judging by his suit, but his voice wasn’t nearly as disarming as the shotgun in his grasp. V immediately reached for a weapon of her own, but the man aimed right at her. “Don’t you fuckin’ move.”</p><p>“What the fuck is this?” She replied, going through her mind to work out possible situations that led the suit to her doorstep. The man was visibly shaking, from fury not fear, and his teeth were clenched.</p><p>“Why don’t you calm down and tell us what’s going on.” Vik said from her side, ever the calm voice in the storm.</p><p>“What’s going <em>on</em>?” The man hissed, taking a step closer to them. V’s hand was itching for the high-calibre pistol at her side, desperate to find an opening and put the guy down before things escalated. “Your little bitch just lost me a hundred thousand eddies, that’s what.”</p><p>“This’s about the fight?” She asked indignantly, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Fuckin’ hell, take it up with your bookie.”</p><p>“You were <em>supposed to throw</em> the goddamn fight!” He screamed, edging closer still. The shotgun moved in his grasp, floating around without a clear target.</p><p>“It’s a live fight, pal, there’s no guarantees with this kind of thing.” Vik said in an attempt to diffuse the situation. All V wanted to do was put a bullet in the guy for coming at her—coming at <em>them</em>—that way. “Couldda gone either way; it’s the way of the sport.”</p><p>“Fuck you and fuck your sport. I’m a dead man after this.” He was lapsing now between irate fury and despondent grief. It took his attention, a brief moment of his eyes flickering to the ground and his grip going slack. V reached for her pistol but he snapped back up, taking aim at her gut and firing. Where she should have felt the spray of double-o buckshot ripping into her torso, she instead felt a cold hard kiss with the ground. Vik slammed into the wall behind her, hand gripping at his body, as her brain caught up with what exactly happened.</p><p>The man’s eyes were wide at the realization of what he’d done, but no amount of regret in the world could have stayed V’s hand. Her pistol was out and aimed before she registered it, the smartlink zeroing in on the spot between the man’s eyes. She fired off three consecutive shots, following up even as he fell to the floor. When she was certain he was down, the panic burst through her defenses and filled her up. She scrambled to her feet, looking on with frozen eyes as red bloomed through the ripperdoc’s shirt.</p><p>“Vik…” She breathed, taking quick steps over to him. He pushed off the wall and stood up straight, fighting against the pain and against her panic in equal measure.</p><p>“Looks—eh, looks worse than it is.” He tried to reassure her; it didn’t work.</p><p>“I…We gotta get to the med centre.” V quickly put her pistol away and looked back at his car, mapping out the route in her mind and trying to recall any construction she’d need to avoid.</p><p>“Not worth it. Really.” He nodded towards the building’s doors and took a few steps into the lobby as if trying to prove a point. “Got all the same goods upstairs.”</p><p>She wanted to drag him outside, throw him in the backseat, and force him to get the help he needed—but med centre meant paperwork and paperwork would lead back to the dead body bleeding out between them. She trusted his ability to fix a gunshot wound, but didn’t know how he was supposed to fix <em>himself</em>. He was halfway to the elevator by the time she rushed after him, slamming her fist repeatedly into the call button as if it would make the lift move any faster. He leaned against the wall, breath a little shallow, and V tried to keep her head on straight.</p><p>Give her a katana slash to the arm and she could move around with ease. Maelstrom gangoons land a few good rounds in her leg? She could pop a MaxDoc and drop them all before even noticing. But this…she didn’t know how to deal with this. Didn’t know how to deal with the person she loved most in the world bleeding out in front of her. As they made it into the elevator and headed for the top floor, V couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. It was like Jackie all over again, him dying in a series of movements she couldn’t stop and being forced to watch it all helplessly.</p><p>Not this time. She wasn’t down for a repeat in any sense of the word. V trusted her ripperdoc to do what he needed to on his end—keep pressure, keep conscious—and she would handle the rest. It may not be pretty and it may not be neat, but she wasn’t going to let him die.</p><p>When the elevator doors finally opened, she let the biometric scanner read her and then pushed into the apartment. It was bigger than any modern apartment in Watson, a sight that blew her mind the first time she’d been there. Hell, it still had a real kitchen, that’s how original the build was. It had been modernized over the years, technologically and aesthetically, but it still retained enough of a dated charm to match the Night City legend’s persona.</p><p>V took his arm and gently steered him to the L-shaped sectional in front of the massive windows that spanned the width of the main space. Sitting him down in the corner seat, V dropped all their stuff and got to work searching for a MaxDoc in his bag. It took some digging but she found the last one, handing it to him while she dumped the rest of the supplies on the ground. Skimming through things, she found the selection lacking for her current needs.</p><p>“Anaesthetic, bandages, tape, what else do I need?” She asked urgently, knowing the second bedroom Vik used as a storeroom for his medical supplies would have what she needed.</p><p>“I uh…could use some tweezers to pull these sluggers outta my gut.” He added, still pressing down hard against his stomach. The blood was spreading, the red hues turning blackish-purple on the blue fabric of his shirt. V nodded, hoping the MaxDoc would keep him stable in her absence.</p><p>The mercenary hopped over the couch and sped to the spare bedroom, pausing when she entered to first sterilize her hands. Adjusting course for the bathroom down the hall, she drenched her hands with soap and got the water running. She lathered up vigorously, getting every last inch of her skin thoroughly covered before rinsing off in patches. She did it twice, just for good measure, and shook the water off her hands instead of using the towel. Running back to the bedroom, she went through the neatly organized shelves and pulled everything she needed, along with an industrial-sized bottle of rubbing alcohol.</p><p>Heading back into the main space, she made a detour to the kitchen counter and grabbed the half-empty bottle of vodka. Crashing onto the ground in front of her ripper, V pushed the table out of the way and set all the supplies on the ground. V opened the bottle and took a deep, deep drink of the contents before offering it to Vik. He took it, though drank only a fraction of her intake, and set it down at his feet. V counted on the MaxDoc to have at least partially stemmed the bleeding, moving forward till she was between his legs and cautiously unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric fell away to either side of him and revealed the very red, very bloody white tank below. The sight alone made her heart drop, a lump forming in her throat as she pushed up the fabric.</p><p>“<em>Fuckin’ hell, Vik</em>.” She whispered, voice shaking at the sight. He was riddled with buckshot; some closely congregated enough to form larger wounds, and other single-entry wounds that radiated further from the point of impact. Her hands shook as she tried to get a hold of herself.</p><p>“I can do it, V.” He said in a quiet voice, taking hold of both her hands to still them. “It’ll be a walk in the park.”</p><p>“You can’t fix your own gunshot.” She said defiantly, wiping at her eyes before the tears could fall. She separated the two dishes, leaving one for the buckshot and filling the other with sterilizer. She threw some more onto her hands to be safe and lifted the local anaesthetic up. “Just—I need you to coach me through this.”</p><p>“Sure.” He nodded, a cough bringing blood to the corners of his mouth. The sight shot her panic right back through the roof, but by God the sound of his voice alone could coax her through just about anything. “Hit me with that, get it everywhere you see red.”</p><p>She let out a deep breath, moving the atomizer closer and spraying a steady stream out onto his injuries. Setting aside the bottle, V grabbed the tweezers and liberally dipped them in the sterilizer while she waited for the anaesthetic to set in. At his signal, V leaned forward and brought the tweezers close to one of the lone bullets on the outskirts of his bigger injury. Carefully slipping the metal into his skin, she watched him closely for any signs of pain or discomfort. Removing the first of the tiny bullets, she dropped it into the empty basin with an audible clang. <em>One down</em>.</p><p>“You got it. Start with the singles, nice and easy.” How he sounded so calm given the current situation was beyond her, but she was grateful for the stability.</p><p>One by one she fished out the outliers, setting them with the others in the dish on the ground. Every few passes she would dip the tweezers back into the sterilizing solution, paying close attention to the ripperdoc’s level of consciousness. As she prepared herself for the big wound, V sat back in disbelief. She could only imagine what would have happened if the gun was aimed higher, or if it was closer. He would have been dead on the sidewalk before she could even <em>think</em> the word MaxDoc. The image knocked the wind out of her harder than any hit from Razor Hugh, and she felt the panic gripping her chest tight once more. She reached a shaky hand out for the Vodka and let it burn liberally down her throat, as though the liquid may keep her eyes dry.</p><p>“Hey now, you’re doin’ just fine.” Vik reached out and tilted her chin up as best he could in his position, the look on his face at the sight of her somewhere between pity and agony. “One last hurrah and it’ll all be over.”</p><p>“You promise you don’t feel anything?” She asked, looking up at him through blurry eyes. He nodded, a single gesture that convinced her—whether or not it was true.</p><p>“Get out what you can, then we’ll flush things to get everything clean.” Viktor said in a level voice. V took a deep breath in and released it, willing her shaking hands to stop as she went back in.</p><p>It was more difficult with the larger wound by far, the bullets having done more damage to his skin. V’s hands were still shaky, but not as bad as before. Her skin came away stained red with each pass, the wetness turning sticky as the air hit it. She had to dig around a lot more for the remaining bullets, sometimes pulling out two at a time. The gunshot had made a mess of his skin, half a dozen tears and gashes all crammed into one spot on his torso.</p><p>When she felt like she got everything out, V grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it just below the wound. Looking up at the ripperdoc for approval, she waited until he nodded before pouring out the sterilizer onto the wound. It pooled in the gashes and trickled over the smaller indents, the excess liquid catching in the cloth. When things had been rinsed out to the best of her ability she wrang out the cloth in one of the basins and used it to mop up any remnants. She pressed lightly against his skin, moving on to wipe the blood away when she was finished. While it didn’t look so horrific after being cleaned up, V still could barely stomach what had happened.</p><p>“I don’t know what to do.” She admitted now that she’d made it this far. Vik eased himself up and looked down at the scattered supplies by his feet, nudging one of the devices with the toe of his boot.</p><p>“That’ll close up most of the holes, big ones gotta heal from the inside out though.” He held his hand out for the device and turned it on, demonstrating how to properly use it. When he handed it to her she took a moment to steady her grip, starting with the smaller injuries first. It was like a mix between med-glue and a heat sealer, the conical tip of the device filling up the holes with some cloudy substance. She pinched the skin together as she applied, repeating the gesture over and over as she healed him in increments.</p><p>Viktor pointed out which ones to leave, so V put a little extra anaesthetic on before reaching for the gauze. She folded the bandage over several times before cutting it to size, laying it over the wound and touching down gently to hold it in place. She searched around for the roll of medical tape, shoving her hand under the couch to retrieve where it had rolled. The mercenary fought against her go-to move of just using her teeth to rip each length, instead using the scissors to her left. When at long last it was finished, she sat back and heaved out a breath that felt like she’d been holding in since the gunshot. Head in her hands, she rubbed her face to relieve some of the pent-up stress.</p><p>“C’mere.” Viktor said in a soft voice, hand outstretched towards her from his spot on the couch. V looked up at him, pushing up to her feet before taking his hand. He tugged her onto the couch beside him, reaching his hand up to the side of her face. “You did good, V. Real good.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, Trauma Team’s got nothing on me.” She joked out of habit, still not fully okay with everything that went down. The ripperdoc pulled her close, bringing her lips to his, and kissed her sincerely. He held her there longer than necessary, as if really trying to hammer home the gesture.</p><p>“You did good.” He restated, firmer this time. V could feel tears stinging at her eyes, her resolve to be some kind of strong crumbling before her. She swallowed hard and got to her feet, turning away from him.</p><p>“D’you…uh, you need anything? For the pain or—or for recovery or something?” She busied herself with cleaning up the mess she’d made, shoving the supplies back into his bag and putting it on the table along with the items she’d taken from his storage.</p><p>“I’m all good, V. Thanks to you.” He promised, able to sit up on his own and reach out to run his knuckles along her leg.</p><p>“Thanks to me, right.” She scoffed. As if it wasn’t her fault entirely that he was hurt to begin with. V kept her back to him and chewed at her lip. “I’m—I’m gonna go shower. Get the sweat off me. You sure you’re good?”</p><p>“It’ll be a while still before the anaesthesia wears off.” He explained, hand falling away from her as she took a step away. It was followed with another, then another, until she was able to walk away from him entirely. Moving through the main area, she went to the opposite end past the kitchen and dining area. Around the half-wall, V pushed open the door to the primary bedroom and walked into the ensuite.</p><p>Stripping out of her clothes, she held her bloodied hands up to inspect them. It was Vik’s blood, smothering her skin—just like Jackie’s had. Her mind threw her back into the memory as she turned on the shower. Jackie’s stuttering last breaths, the look of fear in his eyes, the way his body still felt alive but he was so very clearly gone. What was it that Rogue said to her? People around her had a habit of getting killed. Maybe the old fixer was right. Maybe V was the problem.</p><p>The mercenary climbed into the shower and let the burning water sting her skin, as if her temporary pain could be some sort of cosmic equivalent of a universal apology. The water ran red from her hands, ten streams shooting off from her fingertips towards the drain. The sound of the man’s gunshot echoed in her ears, undercut only by the way Vik’s breaths sounded in the elevator. How close had he been to joining Jackie? How much blood could he have handled losing if he’d used the last MaxDoc on her after the fight?</p><p>“Fuck.” She cursed to herself, scrubbing her hands and realizing how badly the tremors were once again. She tried to focus on washing her hair, lathering up the shampoo and rinsing it out. She cleaned her body, hands leaving a zig-zagging pattern across her skin as her breaths got choppier. “<em>Fuck!</em>”</p><p>She felt like she might be sick. He’d almost died. <em>Vik had almost died</em>. And for what? One more gonk that she pissed off? Only, they usually came sniffing when she was alone. She could take care of her own problems, but how did she take care of herself as a problem? She thought of Jackie laying dead, lifeless, breathless, in the busted up Delamain. V gripped at the boxing gloves around her neck. Then she thought about Vik suffering the same fate. She could see it too clearly—the blood, the dead eyes behind his trademark sunglasses.</p><p>It was enough to break her.</p><p>V felt one tear drop, then another, and before she knew it, she was overcome. She braced herself on the wall, head dropping down as the sobs came freely. It was her own fault, letting herself get attached. Letting herself fall in love. Everything was easier when she kept her distance, kept the deepest parts of herself locked away for safe keeping. Because now, there she was, crying her eyes out in the shower at the thought of losing someone. She should have shot the gunman the second she saw him. She should have been the one with the gunshot.  He was the healer, not the idiot who went around shooting people. That was her job.</p><p>“V?” His voice was barely audible between the water and her sobs. She wiped her eyes, as if it would make a difference with the water coming down on her, and tried to quiet herself. He came into sight, his silhouette visible as he approached the fogged-up glass wall of the shower. “You alright in there?”</p><p>The mercenary shut the water off abruptly, wringing her hair out a few times and sniffling back the tears. She grabbed the towel from the holder outside and wrapped it around herself before stepping out. The ripperdoc had ditched his sunglasses, his green eyes meeting hers with mild concern.</p><p>“Why did you push me out of the way?” She asked with a harshness that she knew was misplaced. Seeing him, all bandaged up, it just reinforced all the horrible thoughts swirling around in her head. “<em>I’m </em>the hired gun, the loudmouth merc, the hothead—<em>I’m </em>the one who dies, <em>not </em>you. <em>Not you</em>.”</p><p>He took her into his arms without a moment’s hesitation, one hand holding her flat against him while the other went to the back of her head. She shook in his grasp—too many things flying around at once—and buried her head in his shoulder.</p><p>“I can’t lose you, Vik.” She managed, hands wrapping gently around his middle. Her fingers curled in against his back, his grip tightening on her.</p><p>“I’m not goin’ anywhere, V.” He promised, pressing his lips to her head. “I’m right here.”</p><p>V tried to hear him, really get his words through her head. It was hard enough to accept at first that he wasn’t just going to walk out on her. Passing that hurdle just presented her with one that was much harder to fight against: an unexpected exit. She couldn’t stop him from dying in the long run, and neither could he. Maybe that just meant she was better off focusing on the moment, on the now, on having him with her then and there. She didn’t survive all she’d been through, didn’t crawl out of that junkyard-graveyard for nothing.</p><p>Gathering some semblance of control over herself she lifted her head, pulling back just far enough to look at him. He held her close just the same, waiting patiently for her to speak.</p><p>“Sorry.” She managed, wondering how she could go from knocking out a pro boxer to feeling like her heart was ripped out of her chest all in one night.</p><p>“The hell you got to be sorry for?” He chastised her light-heartedly, shaking her once.</p><p>“I just…Seein’ you like that…” She shook her head, refocusing on the feeling of his arms around her. “Don’t know what I would’ve done, Vik.”</p><p>“Heh, how d’you think I feel every time I gotta patch you up?” The ripperdoc countered, suddenly making her aware of just how much the tables had turned.</p><p>“Guess I need to be a bit more careful out there, if this’s what it’s like for you.” She looked away from her, chewing at her lip. “Still don’t know why you stick with me.”</p><p>“Ain’t it obvious?” He reached up to turn her back to him, meeting her eye. “You’ve got me down for the count, V. You knock me out every damn day you choose to stay.”</p><p>V rolled her eyes, almost laughing at their nonsense. “Guess one of these days we’re both gonna have to accept that we just might feel the same way about each other.”</p><p>“One of these days.” He nodded, leaning forward to kiss her. She held him there, savouring the gesture. When he pulled away it was to lay his forehead against hers, a moment of calm enveloping them. Night City may have been a cold, cutthroat, cruel place to live, but that just made the rays of light that came through the clouds that much brighter.</p><p>The ripperdoc released her from his grip but took her hand, leading the way out into the bedroom. The wall-encompassing windows boasted the view of the water, its blackness indiscernible from the city streets save for the distorted reflection on its surface from the moon above. Vik’s huge bed lay in the same messy state she’d left it in that morning, the soft sheets tangled half way down from where she’d kicked them off. V reached over to fix them but Viktor pulled her back, turning her to face him and kissing her before getting her down onto the bed. He climbed atop her, lips going to her neck, and she shivered as goosebumps overtook her skin.</p><p>“You don’t feel any pain?” She questioned, knowing exactly where things were heading but not wanting him to suffer for it. The meds should’ve still been working, but she couldn’t know his tolerance levels.</p><p>“Wouldn’t care if I did.” He said quickly, capturing her in a kiss while pulling away her towel. Her temporary chill was replaced with the warmth of his body as he held her close, moving them up to the middle of the bed. V reached down between them and worked open his belt, sliding it free of the loops and tossing it to the side. As she worked at the button and zipper of his pants, the ripperdoc’s hands felt her up all over like he was enjoying her for the first time.</p><p>V pushed up and got him onto his back, leaning down inches away and brushing her thumb over the scar on his chin. She looked from his lips to his eyes, holding out until he surged up to meet her. She pulled away too soon, the absence making her want him more, but sat back so she could pull off his pants and boxers. He kicked the garments away as she crawled over him, flipping her still-damp hair to one side so she could press kisses down his chest. She kissed all around the bandage, above and below his bellybutton, before bringing her lips further south.</p><p>Wrapping a hand around his cock, the mercenary held tight and dragged her tongue over his tip. He let out a guttural sound at the contact, head falling back onto the pillow at her touch. All she ever wanted was to make him feel good, but the night’s events just multiplied it. Inch by inch she took him into her mouth, sucking hard and flexing her tongue against his shaft. When her lips brushed against his groin she came back up, pushing down her gag reflex. She repeated the gesture, feeling as he pressed against the back of her throat.</p><p>“F-fuck, V.” He moaned, reaching a hand down to tangle in her hair. She eased off of him, catching her breath, and pumped her hands along his length. When he got comfortable with her pace she switched it up, making use of her mouth once more while dipping a hand down to massage his balls. Her other hand dragged up his torso, the black hairs on his chest soft against her skin. The hand in her hair gripped tighter, right on the verge of pain, but before it could tip over he pulled away from her entirely.</p><p>She had gotten him right to the edge, but he opted for delayed gratification. He always, <em>always</em> preferred to finish with her. Vik took a moment to gain a little composure before beckoning her towards him. V wiped at her mouth, slowly crawling above him. Before she could get comfortable, he pressed a hand to her sternum and straightened her up. With just enough roughness to make her smile and grabbed hold of her waist and heaved her up towards him. He slid down till he was directly beneath her, arms wrapping around her thighs to keep her in place.</p><p>The ripperdoc brushed his tongue against her clit, rolling it back and forth in languid movements. V reached out to brace herself on the bars of the headboard, hands gripping tight around the cold metal. She let out a soft moan as he licked at her, the warmth of him against her making her shiver. He circled her clit, flicked across it, and alternated tempo to keep her on edge. She felt the subtle throbbing at her core as he worked her, V’s hips grinding against the contact without her permission.</p><p>Vik thrived on it, dragging his tongue down her slit and back up before returning to her clit. She could feel how wet she was and knew he could too, the constant pleasure making her a mewling mess. His name left her lips in stutters, his sounds of approval vibrating against her skin. As she felt the pleasure build up her body began to squirm, but before she could reach her precipice, he pulled away from her.</p><p>It jarred her, V’s eyes hazy when he slid out from under her. She was tightly wound up, brain a little foggy as he got up on his knees. Pulling her close, Viktor lay her down on her back and scattered kisses all over her body. As she slowly came down from her tipping point, the ripperdoc kept her back to the mattress but turned her legs to the side, the both of them pointing out towards the edge of the bed.</p><p>Reaching a hand down, he dragged his tip along her slit a few times, eyes trained on hers, before slowly pushing into her. His head fell down at the sensation, V’s hands reaching up his arms just to make contact. He took her by surprise by grabbing her hands and pushing them down onto the mattress, his hands wrapped tight around her wrists on either side of her head.</p><p>Bending down, the ripperdoc alternated between kissing her and biting, moving up her stomach and between both breasts before settling on her neck. He eased out of her and pushed back in, holding the pace for a few repetitions. After that, and at the tail end of a kiss she stole from him, he started to fuck her earnestly.  The ripperdoc filled her completely with each move, stretching her around him as she took him in repeatedly. She moaned softly at the sensation, his breath hot against her neck as he worked. He built up a solid momentum, her body lurching with every motion, and her hands absently pushed at their restraints in some attempt to touch him.</p><p>“<em>More.</em>” She begged, biting at his lip when he lifted his head to look at her. “<em>Please,</em> Vik. Gimme more.”</p><p>A smirk took over his face, a look that tangled up her insides, and he licked her lips before kissing her. He released her wrists only to reach up and lace their fingers together. Pausing for the briefest of moments, the ripperdoc quickly changed pace and started hammering into her. It was so forceful it made her breath stutter, her fingers curling round and digging into the backs of his hands.</p><p>“<em>Fuckin’ hell</em>, V.” He breathed, lungs working hard to keep up with their pace. V felt the pressure building up between her legs, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each pass he took at her. The noises came freely from her throat, her lips unable to keep them at bay as her whole body began to tense up. His name left her lips, this time as an announcement of what she was on the crux of. He maintained his momentum, kissing her neck as her body arched up towards his.</p><p>V’s whole body shuddered as the climax spread through her, the constricting of her walls around the ripperdoc proving to undo him in tandem. He practically growled as he spent himself inside her, the heat of him spilling out onto her legs from the force. His head sank down against her collarbone where he stayed for a few moments, the two of them a heaving mess of choppy breaths and sweat.</p><p>When he moved again it was to release her wrists, kiss her deeply, and very slowly pull out of her. When he was certain she was good he moved away, turning to lay down on his back beside her. V gingerly rolled over to curl up on his chest, conscious enough to avoid the injury on his abdomen. Her eyes fell shut as they basked in the almost-silence, her nerve endings still on fire from his touch.</p><p>As they lay there in the aftermath, V’s whole body felt like it was humming. Whether it was just the lingering climax in her system or the cumulative events of the night leaving her buzzing, she couldn’t tell. But she could hear the steady thumping of the ripperdoc’s heart and knew there was no better sound in the world. He kept his arm tight around her waist, his thumb brushing gentle patterns over the back of her hand where it lay on his chest. V thought about how her life path had changed ever since Jackie’s <em>ofrenda</em>, how despite everything with the Relic she had the ripperdoc there at her side. It was just his presence, it was his affection and attention and his deep, sincere care. V knew she hadn’t felt that way before, not for anyone, and she suddenly felt the urge to speak the words she’d kept blacklisted her whole life.</p><p>Pushing herself up on her elbows, V looked down at her ripperdoc. He turned to meet her gaze, brushing her hair back behind her ear and grazing his thumb along her jaw. The more she struggled to speak the more he paid attention, as if sensing the severity of what she may be thinking.</p><p>“I am so fucking in love with you, Viktor Vektor.” She finally admitted, the words giving him pause. It was easy to just want someone—she’d <em>wanted</em> guys before—and though more difficult she had depended on people before too. But the way she felt about Vik…wasn’t nothing like it. Wasn’t no one like him. She’d known for a while, deep down, even though the thought scared her. But she’d said it now, put it out into the universe.</p><p>“Valerie…” He said softly, looking away for a moment. It made her think she’d said something, done something wrong. He sat up, bringing her with him, and took her hands in his grasp. After a heartbeat he looked back up at her, taking a deep breath. “Marry me.”</p><p>“I—what?” V said in disbelief. Had she heard him right? Had she hit her head in the shower and this was all a hazy dream?</p><p>“If I can make you even a stitch as happy as you make me, I don’t wanna dance around this thing anymore. Not what you mean to me, not how I feel for you. I love you, V. Say you’ll marry me.”</p><p>The mercenary swallowed hard, trying to wrap her head around the request. She knew what she wanted to say, of that there was no doubt, but how did she actually get her throat to cooperate? She gripped his hands tight and nodded her head, letting the action speak until she could manage a single word.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>He smiled like she’d never seen him before, pulling her down and crashing his lips onto hers. She kept him there, deepening the gesture, as the swirling euphoria filled her up. They pulled away to look at each other briefly before kissing again, giving over to the gesture.</p><p>“Wasn’t how I planned on askin’, but…” He began, rubbing her back as they lay down facing one another.</p><p>“Getting’ a gut of buckshot does that to ya?” V countered, holding his hand close against her. He reached up with his other hand and brushed her cheek.</p><p>“Somethin’ like that.” He nodded, staring at her almost wistfully. “I love you, V.”</p><p>“Don’t know why, but I’m damn glad to hear it.” She scooted closer, kissing the back of his hand. “Love you too.”</p><p>He lay his forehead against hers, every freckle visible even in the lowlight of the room. His voice was quiet, an honest request. “<em>Say it again</em>.”</p><p>V couldn’t help but smile, but she was more than happy to oblige.</p><p>“I love you, Vik. Always will.”</p><p>V knew that somewhere out there Jackie was looking down at them, a joke in hand to make light of things. She also knew he’d be happy for them, and that counted for something in her books. She may have lost her best friend, but she could carry him with her, and life wasn’t so heavy of a burden when Vik was there to help. V looked up at him, so wholly consumed with how she felt about him, and saw the same look mirrored back on his face. While the ends didn’t necessarily justify the means, she could take comfort in the fact that for the first time in her life things had a tried-and-true silver lining.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well I finally finished the game so here's my final chapter to this short story! I was overwhelmed with all the love you guys showed with the first two chapters so big thanks to everyone kind enough to leave a comment. Hope you find this a fitting end for these two, and I will forever be salty that our ripperdoc wasn't a romance option.</p>
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